


The first time.

by devilscut



Series: The last time was the first time [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bullying, Canonical Character Death, Coma, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Mentions of Cancer, Mentions of child sexual abuse, Mentions of miscarriage, Pre-Season/Series 01, Survivor Guilt, Temporary Amnesia, Xenophilia, mate bond
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2017-12-25 13:25:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 34
Words: 166,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilscut/pseuds/devilscut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>NB: The characters do age progressively during the course of this work.</p><p>The first time that Stiles Stilinski saves Derek Hale is much earlier than anyone knows about.  Stiles is 10 when visiting his Mom in hospital he hears a voice in his head begging for help.  No one else can hear it but Stiles and his very sick Mom.  It's Derek Hale, who's been in a coma for the past couple of weeks since he got injured in the fire that destroyed his family.  Stiles is the only one that can help a guilt ridden 16 year old boy and in doing so, both Stiles and Derek come to realise that they have something special between them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> FYI folks, Derek is 16 and Stiles is 10 at the start of this. No overt physical contact at this age.  
> They do get older and more physical later on, hence, some of the warning tags.
> 
> Another one where I think it's going to be a quick one-shot but ends up being longer and more detailed than I imagined. I don't think I am physically capable of NOT dragging a story out. :D
> 
> Unbeta'ed - but read and re-read till my eyes bled.

_‘Help me.’_

 

Ten year old, Stiles Stilinski, is propped up next to his mother in her hospital bed holding her hand, when he first hears it.  A cry for help. 

 

It’s real faint at first.  He looks around the room.  No one is paying any attention.  Must be a tv in some other patient’s room.  They should really turn it down.

 

 _‘Help me..  please…’_   He hears it again.  Louder.  It’s appealing on some level, even with the frightened edge that’s layered in it.  It’s deeper in tone than his ‘coz he’s only ten and this is the first time he’s ever consciously thought that someone’s voice was..  nice.. no that doesn’t fit, it’s not enough.  He can think of a better word than that, surely.  He studies the dictionary for the annual spelling bee at school.  He puzzles it over.  Attractive, maybe.  He shakes his head, it’s a dude though.  Weird and not, all at the same time.

 

The voice is familiar, maybe an actor he tells himself even though he knows instinctively he’s never heard it before.  It’s a young male, older than him though because it sounds like his voice has broken, so he’s gone through puberty.  A teenager maybe. 

 

Stiles reads a lot, about different things.  Sometimes, it’s random and other times he’s focused, Mom and Dad call it obsessed, about a particular subject.  He knows about puberty because, he’d been led down that path while reading about male circumcision.  He is, Scott’s not.

 

Stiles is mentally cataloguing as much information, as many clues, as he can get from what he’s hearing, so he’s trying to not only hear the words said but the tone, background noise, as much detail about the victim he can get..  okay victim might be a bit of a stretch but weird ass ‘attractive’ spooky voice wouldn’t look too convincing on a police report. 

 

One day Stiles is going to be a cop when he grows up, just like his Dad.  Or even better go all the way to the FBI, and become an agent just like Clarice Starling, but not like Scott’s Dad.  He makes Scott cry, but that’s just between Scott and Stiles.  Stiles’ parents don’t know that he has a pirate copy of ‘Silence of the lambs’ stashed away under his bed.  It thrills and horrifies him each time he watches it.

 

The scream that he hears next makes him jump, his legs twitching and his heart is pounding wildly in his chest. _‘Please..  get me out of here.’_    The voice sounds terrified.

 

“Dad.  Can you hear that?”  His voice sounds shaky, even to himself.  Stiles is frightened enough to interrupt his Dad who’s standing at the far side of the room with Mom’s doctor.  Doctor Tanner’s shaking his head and his Dad has his arms wrapped around his middle, tight, like he’s giving himself a hug.  He’s obviously heard Stiles though ‘coz he glances over, his face stern, but he just holds a hand up as though to say ‘hang on a few minutes son’, before he turns back to listen to what the doctor’s saying.

 

 _‘Please, please..’_   It’s really loud now, almost like the boy’s in the same room.  _‘I want to go home..’_

 

“Stiles sweetie..  someone’s calling you.  Go and see who it is.”  His Mom’s got her eyes closed and her breathing is shallow past the tubes they’ve got running up into her nose.  Then she opens them briefly and he gets to see the shape and the golden amber colour of eyes that match his perfectly.  Dad calls them his bookends, his Mom laughs everytime.

 

She lifts a trembling hand and brushes it across the top of his skull, the regrowth has been really quick since he and his Dad shaved it bald.  His Dad didn’t really trust him with the razor, Stiles didn’t mind ‘coz he wouldn’t trust himself either, so he ended up going to the barber shop across town.  Stiles’ hair is really, really short and really, really soft, Mom tells him it feels like brushed velvet.  Their hair is a perfect match too, same colour, same length, although his Mom’s wasn’t shaved, it kinda fell out.   

 

She smiles at him.  “Tickles..  I shall call you Tickles Stilinski from now on, that would make the perfect name, wouldn’t it?”

 

“No muggle would ever have a name like that, or what about Claudia Ticklish?”  He agrees.  It’s a little game that they’ve been playing since he started reading the first Harry Potter book to her, they would try and come up with the oddest names they can based on their own which would suit that world of muggles and wizards.  Although he’s banned Mom from using his real first name, much as she says it would really suit.

 

 _‘Let me out.’_   The voice calls, fear threaded through it and it makes Stiles heart twist and ache to hear it.

 

His Mom closes her eyes again, exhausted.  He leans over, being real careful not to press too hard on any part of her, because she’s gotten real thin and in some spots it looks like her bones are gonna poke right through her skin.  It makes him feel sick to see it.  He hopes she doesn’t know.  Pressing his lips to her angular cheek, he can see the corners of her pale lips tilt in a little smile.

 

“He needs you sweetheart..  he’s been calling for a long time..go on..  go and find him...   find Der….”  The air seeps slowly out of her slightly parted lips as she falls back asleep.  She’s been doing that a lot lately.  One minute talking and the next asleep in the middle of a sentence.  Dad says she needs her rest if she’s going to get better.  Stiles isn’t too sure that it will help, but he agrees with his Dad anyway.  His Dad really needs to believe it, his Dad really needs to believe that Stiles does too.

 

He climbs off the bed, puts the bookmark where they are up to in the ‘Prisoner of Azkhaban’ and leaves it next to his Mom’s hand, and moves to the door.  His Dad glances at him now and Stiles pulls out a heap of change he has in his pocket and tilts his head towards the corridor where the soda machine stands at the end.  His Dad gets the message and with the briefest of nods, gives permission for him to go, before focusing his attention back on the doctor. 

 

If his Mom hadn’t heard it as well he’d have thought that he was actually going mad.   That maybe a combination of Adderall and what feelings he recognises as grief and stress, but doesn’t have quite the right words to name them, had pushed him over the edge.

 

There’s something that’s pulling him, like the undertow when he’s been swimming at the beach, it’s dragging him along with it.  He’s being drawn into and towards something that he knows with primal intuition is going to change his life forever.  He doesn’t hesitate and leaves his mother’s hospital room.  She told him to go on this adventure.  She let him know that she doesn’t need him right now, at this very moment, but this boy does.

 

In the corridor, Stiles waits and listens.  There’s nothing now, just a weird sort of crackling and popping, it’s really loud, if he didn’t know better he would think..  yeah he remembers when they went on a camping holiday a couple of years ago.  It was just the three of them, when Mom was well, one night they made a big campfire so they could toast marshmallows.  When Stiles had poked his stick at the flames, tipped with a sticky strawberry marshmallow, the sticks and leaves crackled and the really dry pieces of wood made little popping noises like tiny explosions.  This is what it sounds like, but bigger, louder…  it roars, it’s frightening.

 

“Hello.”  Stiles says, feeling a little bit weird standing in the middle of the corridor talking to no one, so he starts to walk to the soda machine.  There’s no answer, so he tries again, still the same loud crackling noises but he thinks he can hear…  is that…  crying?  He strains to hear, it’s so soft and it makes his chest hurt listening to it.  He thinks, _‘please don’t cry’_.  Then he hears a sharply indrawn breath.

 

 _‘Who’s there?..  Please..  can you hear me?’_   The voice sounds breathless.

 

 _‘I’m Stiles.  I can hear you.’_   There’s a pause before a torrent of words washes over him, he nearly staggers at the force and intensity of it and has to put a hand out against the gently humming soda machine to steady himself. 

 

‘ _Please..  you’ve got to get me out of here…  help me…  I need help…  get Laura…  oh God, they’re all here…  they hate me…  please…   Stiles..Stiles..’_   It goes on and on, ringing in his head until he feels like he’s going to explode.

 

“Stop it.”  He says it out loud, realises that the only person who can hear him is an older man with a bunch of flowers in his hand who gives him a strange look as he passes.  That’s fine, Stiles has had his share of strange looks before, just ask Scott he’s often the one supplying them and he’s his best friend.  

 

 _‘Stop it.  Stop it please.’_ he thinks.  Says it a second time.  Eventually, the runaway train of words stops until all he can hear is heavy breathing.

 

 _‘Now where are you?’_   Stiles tries to sound like his Dad.  His Dad’s a Beacon Hill’s Deputy Sheriff and he’s heard him talk to people before when he’s on the job.  It’s like magic, he can get just about anyone to do what he wants.  Stiles doesn’t think it’s just about the command or authority his Dad naturally seems to possess.  He just has this calmness about him in his voice and tone, his body language and everyone just listens to him, even Stiles, who is the total opposite.  He tries to be like that now, even if it’s only pretend and his heart is determined to thump its way out of his chest.

 

 _‘I don’t know.’_   It seems to have worked, the young man still sounds a little bit breathless but he’s definitely calmer.

 

 _‘What’s around you?  Describe it.’_   Stiles hears the faintest of whimpers.

 

 _‘Fire.’_   The one word is laced with such dread and fear, it trickles down Stiles’ spine like ice water.  Oh God.. oh God.  He can’t do this.

 

 _‘Please you have to..  I need you.’_   Derek says and Stiles shivers as he realises that he’d left his thoughts wide open and that _he’d_ been able to hear his doubt. 

 

 _‘What’s your name?’_   He asks softly, he can’t keep thinking of him as ‘he’ or ‘man’ or ‘boy’.

 

 _‘Derek.  Derek Hale.’_   Stiles frowns, the name is really familiar although he can’t think exactly why.  He lets it go, it’ll come back to him when he’s ready.  That’s what his Mom has told him before when he’s struggled to remember something, she’s been right so far.

 

 _‘Okay Derek Derek Hale.’_   He hears a snort, like a choked off laugh.  _‘Can you see a way out?’_

_‘Yes..  I think so.  There’s a light, it’s bright.. but it’s…  I can’t get there..  the fire.”_

_‘Is there a way past it..  can you get around the fire?’_

 

 _‘No.’_   Derek doesn’t sound right.  Stiles can hear something in his voice and he knows he’s lying.

 

 _‘Derek..  tell me.. is there a way around?’_   He makes his voice sound firm, as much as he can because..  jeez, like he’s ten.  He needs Derek to be able to tell him the truth.

 

 _‘Yes.’_ He says it so reluctantly that Stiles knows there’s more to this, so he waits patiently.  His Dad does this to him and before he knows it Stiles is often spilling the beans on more stuff than he intends to. 

 

 _‘They’re in the way.  They won’t let me through.”_ He eventually says.  Stiles shivers.  Creep factor between 1 and 10, this is sounding like an 11.

 

_‘Who are they?’_

A sob comes through and the pain of recognition settles in Stiles’ chest.  So this is what it sounds like when your heart is breaking.

 

 _‘The dead.. They’re dead..  all of them dead..  because of me.”_   Derek sounds grief stricken to the point of madness.  Stiles is familiar with it, he’s felt the same over the past 18 months with his Mom and she’s still alive, he feels Derek’s agony.  Can literally taste the tears running down his face and spilling into his mouth, the salt blooms sharp and stings the lip he’s been biting so ferociously, but when he lifts a hand to his face it’s dry to the touch.

 

 _‘Derek.  Who’s there?”_   Stiles asks again, in a quieter, softer tone. 

 

 _‘My family.’_   Oh god.. oh god.  Stiles remembers now, just like his Mom said he would.  It comes back in a flood of memories, overhearing the Sheriff talking to his Dad when he visited his parents a couple of weeks ago.

 

 

**_“What a mess.  Practically the whole family gone.”  The Sheriff rubs a tired hand over his face._ **

****

**_“So an accident?”  His Dad asks quietly.  They’re standing in the doorway.  He doesn’t really like Stiles hearing work stuff, but Stiles has got it pretty sussed out that if he sits quietly and looks like he’s busy doing something else, like most adults his Dad takes it for granted that he’s not paying attention.  At the moment he’s got a Nintendo game boy beeping and carrying on like he’s playing a game, little does his Dad know that’s simply the music and sfx sounds for the leader board.  Stiles is solely focused on every word they’re saying._ **

****

**_“Looks like it but..  I don’t know, there’s something..  I know you’ve got a lot on your plate at the moment with.. Claudia and things, but would you mind taking a look at the file and the evidence photos.  I’d appreciate hearing what you think.”_ **

****

**_“Sure.  Drop ‘em off, I’ll take a look.  Not too sure it’ll help but..  I can’t help but think about those kids.  So out of the entire Hale family only Laura and Derek survived?  That’s a huge blow.”  His Dad looks really sad._ **

****

**_“No the Uncle survived too, Peter Hale.   Badly burnt, he’s gone to a specialist Burns unit in LA.  The boy, Derek.. he’s in some sort of coma or something from what I understand.  Catatonic.  Not surprised, the FD tell me that there were still screams coming from inside the house when they arrived with the kids on their heels.  They were headed to school when they saw the fire trucks heading up Hale Road and their place is the only one on it.”  The Sheriff looks anguished._ **

****

**_“When they got back to the house Derek tried to run in, got bumped on the head by a falling beam.  They don’t understand it, he should be awake by now.  He’s here, next floor down.  They’ll keep him here for a couple more weeks, but if he doesn’t snap out of it they’ll transfer him to somewhere that specialises in this sort of trauma.  The girl’s hanging on by the skin of her teeth.  She won’t leave his bedside though..  she’s got grit.”  The sheriff almost smiles when he says this, his admiration of her toughness obvious._ **

****

**_“And another thing..  just so you know.  McCall’s been snooping around too.  Why the FBI would be interested in a suburban house fire, I don’t know?  He says it’s, quote..”  The sheriff uses his first and second fingers on each hand to punctuate.  “..because this is where his son lives and he wants a safe community for him to grow up in.”  He huffs a grim laugh.  “What an ass.  It never concerned him before, not when he was living here and not since he left his wife and boy behind and went to Virginia.  He’s pushing the accident line and that makes the back of my neck itch something bad.”_ **

****

**_Stiles’ Dad nods his head in agreement.  He gets the impression that Dad and Mr McCall don’t like each other much.  Good, because Stiles doesn’t like him either._ **

****

**_Yeah, Scott’s Dad is an ass.  After his own Mom, Mrs McCall is the best and Scott..  well he’s the best, most loyal friend a guy could have, so if he’s that great a friend he’d have to be a pretty great son too.  Right?  For him to leave them..  that’s the douchiest thing ever._ **

****

**_“John, you remember what we talked about before?  I’ve only got another year or two left in me and that’s it.  I’d really like you to reconsider.”_ **

****

**_“Thanks Glenn, I appreciate the confidence, but you know I think I’m going to be pretty busy when I get Claudia home.  She’s gonna require a lot of after care, once we get through this.”  Dad’s voice is firm.  The Sheriffs’ is sad._ **

****

**_“Yeah.. yeah.  That’s right.”  He sticks his hand out towards Stiles’ Dad and they shake hands before he makes his goodbyes to them all and leaves._ **

****

 

 _‘Derek, I know where you are.  Okay.’_ He can’t hear anything except the crackling flames.  _‘I’m coming Derek, hold on.”_

_‘Stiles..  please hurry.’_   There’s an urgency in his tone that hadn’t been there before.

 

 _‘What’s wrong?... Derek?... Derek?’_   Stiles is scared, it’s pulsing through him now, almost like he’s running out of time.

 

 _‘Laura..  I can hear her.. damn it.. she can’t hear me..  why can’t she hear me.. she’s my sister..  Stiles she’s saying that they’re going to take me away.  To somewhere else where I can get better..  Stiles they won’t be able to hear me.  Not like you.’_   Derek’s frantic and distraught and Stiles feels the same in the pit of his belly, the churning motion that makes him sick at the thought of Derek going away. 

 

Even after such a short time it will feel as though he’s lost something vital, an important part of himself.  He can’t let that happen.  Just can’t.  He doesn’t question the sudden connection he feels to this boy.  Just knows he needs to help him, needs to save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should say that I'm not taking what the Sheriff says about Scott's Dad further in this fic and I don't want to mislead anyone when they get to the end and say 'What about...' It's just I really don't like him and Stiles and his Dad don't either and it made sense to put that little bit of friction into this time period. (Personally I think he knows more about what's going on in Beacon Hills than he's letting on - maybe contacts within the hunters - who knows??)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles rushes to help Derek, the boy who's voice he can hear in his head. Finding him in the hospital ward is one thing, trying to rescue him when he's trapped inside his own head in a coma is another. Will Stiles find himself on a one way trip to hell?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm taking too long to do edits etc.. on this, but I'm trying not to rush and make it the best I can. I've been ill with a horrible virus that's really knocking me around. If this chapter isn't up to par or feels screwy please blame it on the fever I've been battling, that's what I intend to do. :(
> 
> Unbeta'ed - as if anyone would want to be in contact with a plague carrier.

Stiles runs to the elevator, hopping anxiously from one foot to the other as he waits.  Worried that a/ he’s not going to be in time for Derek and b/ his Dad’s going to walk out of the hospital room looking for him. 

 

When the bell dings, the doors open to an empty car, he presses the button to close the doors first before hitting the one for the next floor down.

 

 _‘Hold on Derek..  I’m coming..  I’m coming.”_  

 

When the doors open again onto the next level, he can see a reception desk immediately in front of him, with nurses busily moving around it. 

 

It’s just like the deadly Gatekeeper section of his favourite fantasy RPG, it’s the one spot that outwardly looks really safe, almost lame, but ‘SNAP’ the next minute you’re caught in a trap you didn’t even see coming.  

 

He really, really hopes that this will be different, because more often than not, when Stiles plays he gets caught.  His Dad’s always telling him he needs to learn patience.  His Mom’s always saying just go for it.

 

Stiles read somewhere that if he acts like he knows what he’s doing, knows where he’s going, most of the time people will just take it for granted that it’s so and leave you alone.  It would work better if he had a clipboard.  No one asks you questions if you have a clipboard.

 

Holding his breath he simply walks casually through, pretending like he’s just popped down to the hospital cafe on the ground floor and is coming back to where he belongs.  Method acting, he's read about that too.  Nothing to see here, no siree.  Just little ol’ Stiles.

 

One of the nurses lifts her head, like a shark scenting blood in the water and watches him closely, Stiles flashes her his specially formulated ‘trust me’ smile.  Two parts big wide innocent eyes, one part mid-range smile.  Mid-range ‘coz as he explained to Scott too big and you’re cocky, too small you’re not confident enough. 

 

If he only could do Jedi mind-tricks, he’d so ‘these aren’t the droids you’re looking for’ to her or make her think she's a chicken or something.  Sniffing, she turns back to the computer screen in front of her, but doesn’t say a word.

 

_‘Stiles..’_

_‘Sshh Derek.. gimme a minute..  just using the force.’_

_‘Huh?’_

 

Once past, he releases the hold on his lungs and the air whooshes out of his lips.  There are some days, not many, he thinks he could be a secret agent, when he’s got a grip on his ADHD and his body is more or less under his control, today is one of those days.  Bond, Bourne, Stilinski.  Oh Yeah.

 

He walks down the corridor, most of the doors are open and he can see straight in.  But who is he looking for?

 

 _‘Uhh..  Derek..  what do you look like?’_   He asks.  He took a peek at the police files on the Hale fire that the Sheriff had brought round to his Dad, but there had been no photos of Derek or Laura in it.

 

_‘What? oh yeah right.. I’m 16, black hair, green eyes about five eleven.’_

Stiles sighs, those things are going to be hard to see when someone is lying down in a hospital bed.  Then he sees a woman come out of the very last room.   She’s older, about twenty he guesses and her hair is long and dark.  She’s rubbing at her eyes tiredly and is walking towards him. 

 

_‘Is your sister about 20 with long dark hair?’_

_‘Yes yes.  Have you found me? Have you found me Stiles?’_   Derek’s voice is anxious and excited in turns.

 

 _‘I think so.’_ Stiles doesn’t approach Laura.  He walks into an open room where he can see quite clearly the patient is asleep and that there’s no visitors and shuts the door. 

 

For the life of him, he can’t imagine trying to have a conversation with her that’s going to start with ‘I know your brother’s in a coma, but he talks to me, would you like me to pass on a message?’

 

 _‘I thought I’d died.’_   Stiles freezes in place, behind the closed door.  There’s something in Derek’s voice, a darkness, that makes him think that Derek’s really saying he’d wished he had.  His heart squeezes painfully at the thought.

_‘You’re not dead you know that don’t you?  You’re in hospital because you’re in a coma.’_  Please, please say yes.  If he had to try and convince Derek that he wasn’t actually dead that was just going to start straying into some weird stuff that Stiles wasn’t sure he’d be able to deal with.  Life and death at the moment was a real emotional subject for Stiles.

_‘Yeah,  I figured.  When I could hear people around me talking but they couldn’t hear me…  couldn’t hear me scr..’_ Derek cuts off abruptly but it doesn’t stop Stiles from finishing off the sentence.  They couldn’t hear Derek scream.

_‘There’s one lady though.  She’s nice, she comes in and talks to me.  It’s almost like she can hear me..  she’s the only one I can feel when she holds my hand, not even Laura...’_ Derek sighs.  _‘But it’s not like this Stiles..  there’s nothing quite like this.’_  Stiles holds his breath, Derek’s right there’s nothing like this.. this connection of minds.  He feels close to Derek, like he knows him, like he’s always known him.

 

He waits until he hears Laura’s footsteps go past the room he’s in, gives it a minute and then hurries down the corridor until he’s right outside the room where Derek Hale is.

 

Stiles doesn’t know why his heart starts beating so hard in his chest before he even walks in the room.  It’s thundering by the time he’s finally standing by the bed.  Derek is exactly how he described himself and not, all at the same time.  Stiles wrinkles his nose in confusion.

 

Yes, he’s got black hair.  Still can’t tell about the eyes because they’re closed, but he has unusually long black lashes fanning over his high cheekbones.  Looking at the length of him, under the covers, from head to toe he thinks Derek’s overestimated his height slightly, the majority of people do, maybe more 5’9 or 5’10.  He’s a cop’s kid, he’s picked up a few things. 

 

What Derek hasn’t said is that he’s beautiful.  Stiles never thought he’d say that about another guy before, but he can’t help it.  He feels like he’s been hit over the head or something, he can’t drag his eyes off the pale face with its straight nose and strong jawline.  His lips are slightly parted, the lower one slightly fuller than the top. 

 

Derek’s old enough to grow a faint stubble, it looks like a shadow has fallen permanently across the lower part of his face.  Stiles’ fingertips start to itch and he can feel an urge to reach out and touch that facial hair.  Let it rasp against his skin and make his nerve endings tingle.  He feels all shivery inside at the thought, like his insides are composed entirely of jelly.  He manages not to touch and clasps his hands together just in case.

 

Stiles is giddy, it’s like when Scott dared him to run round and round his baseball bat fifty times, the tip in the ground his forehead pressed to the heel of the grip.  He’d come off dizzy and reeling, not able to walk straight like everything was skewed left of centre and he was staggering.  Scott had laughed his head off.  He’d probably laugh right now too.

 

 _‘You think I’m beautiful?’_ Stiles jumps in shock, Derek had been quiet for so long that Stiles had almost forgotten about him. 

 

When he registers what Derek’s said he groans aloud.  Great, he forgot to, what’s the word his Dad likes to use when Stiles just says what he thinks without.. oh yeah censor.  Stiles had forgotten to censor his thoughts and Derek Hale had heard about how beautiful he is and.. oh God had he heard him earlier about how even his voice is nice, no wait didn’t he decide on attractive.  Yes, even his voice is attractive.   

 

He’s currently surviving his first year in the hell known as middle school.   It’s been an education for Stiles in the taunts of bullies.  They’ve been quite creative and he’s learned a lot, mainly because some of the things he’s been called he’s had to look up, which in the long run hasn’t been a bad thing because when you don’t know you’ve just been insulted it really takes the thrill out of it for the other person. 

 

He knows he doesn’t quite fit in with the rest of his classmates, he’s small for his age and slender with it, not an athlete, can’t rely on his looks to gain popularity so within the first week of starting, being called a fag and worse, he’s read up on the different types of human sexuality.  Knows what straight, gay and bi mean, pan he’s still not quite got his head around yet but sorta thinks it means you like EVERYONE, which is kind of cool.  His Mom’s  always telling him that ‘love is love’, if you love someone with your whole heart it doesn’t matter who they are.

 

He’d always thought he was straight.  ‘Coz he’s been crushing on Lydia Martin, the strawberry blonde goddess of his dreams, since 3rd grade.  This feeling though he…  it…  Does this mean he’s gay?  That he’s noticing things about another guy.  God, he’s got no idea.  Jeez, he’s such a dweeb.  A loser dweeb.  He’s such a gay loser dweeb.

 

_‘Uhhmm Stiles.’_

_‘Yeah.’_

_‘I can still hear you.’_

_‘Perfect.’_ Stiles slaps his hand across his burning face and drags it down with a grimace.  Thank God, he can’t actually see him, he can kind of live with the mortification of being overheard, just barely.

 

 _‘So..  you really like this Lydia person?’_   There’s an edge in Derek’s voice that thrills Stiles as much as it makes him nervous.  His stomach feels tight in a good way.

 

He decides it’s easier just to ignore the question.  Okay, focus Stilinski.

 

 _‘Uhmm running out of time here.  Uh.. Derek you’re hooked up to some machines here.  Looks like..  yeah a heart monitor and oh that one looks like it’s for brainwaves.’_   He traces the wires that connect Derek to the monitors with his eyes.  One set runs from his temples and the other from underneath the white v-neck t-shirt he’s wearing that reveals the hollow of his throat, the line of his collarbones.  It makes him look vulnerable.

 

He watches the lines on the brain monitor go up and down gently, it’s like a set of rolling waves.  He’s not an expert, but it doesn’t look like a whole lot of activity really. 

 

_‘Can you feel them?  They’re kinda stuck to you.’_

_‘No nothing.’_   Derek replies, letting the fact that Stiles didn’t answer his question go.  _‘Where I am now, that’s what I can feel.  The heat from the flames and smoke burning my lungs.’_

 

 _‘Okay.  They’ve got an IV line hooked into you on the back of your hand.  What about that?’_ It physically hurts Stiles to see where the needle has pierced the delicate skin, his own hand starts to ache in response.  He hates to see Derek hurt.  It’s amazing it’s not bruised and before he can stop himself Stiles has gently dragged one finger lightly over the punctured area. 

 

The moment he does, he can smell smoke and feel heat scorch across his skin and the machines hooked into Derek start to beep louder and more consistently, the waves getting stronger.  Stiles jerks his hand away, the smoke and heat disappear and the machines slowly resume their normal steady beeps.

 

 _‘Stiles..  I think..  I think I saw you.’_   Derek’s voice sounds awestruck. 

 

_‘What?’_

 

 _‘On the otherside of the flames you came out of the light..  for like a second.  Stiles..  don’t do that again.. they didn’t see you this time..  Okay.’_   There’s a grim determination in his tone when he says.  _‘Stiles, exactly how old are you?’_

_‘Old enough, okay?’_ Anxiety swells within him.  Derek’s going to push him away, he can feel it, knows that the next words he hears will be telling him to walk away.  _‘Derek..  I’m not leaving you.’_

_‘Damn it Stiles..  you can’t.. what if they hurt you? What if you get stuck here too? No, go on back to your family and your happy life and stay away from me.  You’ll only end up hurt or worse if you try and help me and I’m not worth it.’_ Derek’s voice is an ache inside him as he listens..  listens to the other boy try and give him reasons to abandon him. 

 

The anger that wells inside him is hot and fast rising, like the bile that rises in your throat just before you throw up.

_‘Guess what?  You’re not the boss of me Derek Hale and for your information our happy life isn’t so fucking happy.  My Mom’s got cancer, Derek.  She’s dying.. she’s dying..’_ The words started out angry and furious at the other boy for trying to push him away and by the end Stiles is stumbling over the truth of his thoughts and they finish in a broken whisper.  _‘Don’t tell my Dad I swore okay?’_

 

 _‘Stiles..  I’m sorry..  so sorry.  Just don’t..  I couldn’t bear it if..  if you were trapped like this.  I think I can endure it if you’re safe, but not..  not..here.’_ He can’t finish.  Stiles can feel tears well in his eyes and they spill over.

 

 _‘Are you crying?  Don’t, please bab...’_ Derek stops abruptly as if he realises exactly what he’s about to say.

_‘How do you know I am?  And don’t call me a baby.’_   Stiles is still feeling a bit angry with Derek, but he can’t deny the flush of pleasure that heats his cheeks when he hears the softly spoken ‘almost’ endearment, he knows the difference between a taunt and a verbal caress, not that he would ever tell Derek that.  It’s easier to pretend that he was being made fun of.  With anyone else he could, it’s a struggle when he knows, knows in his heart and head, that Derek’s not that type of person.

 

_‘Your tears.. I can scent them.’_

_‘Okay, that’s not freaky in any way.’_ Stiles says, Derek laughs like he can’t help himself.

 

He’s been looking at Derek’s hand all this time, where it lays palm up on the bed next to him.  It’s almost too large for the rest of his body, he thinks it means Derek’s still got a bit more growing to do.. like a puppy with big paws.  It also strangely enough looks gentle, like if Stiles put his hand within the broad span of palm and fingers he would never have to fear that it would be used to harm him, it would only cherish and protect him. 

 

He screws his face up, these are not words or ideas that he’s ever had before.  It’s confusing.  He can’t stop himself when his hand hovers over Derek’s open palm.

 

 _‘Stiles?  Stiles are you there?’_ “Hello.. who are you?” 

 

Two voices talking to him at once, from different realities, his brain feels like it’s splitting in two trying to cope. 

 

“Are you lost?”  Stiles looks over his shoulder and he sees Laura Hale standing in the doorway, she’s really pretty with the same high cheekbones as Derek, her dark eyes are friendly, then confused. 

 

“You smell good, really good.”  She looks even more puzzled when she very obviously sniffs the air.  “Why do you smell like Derek?  Oh my..  mate.” 

 

His hand has inadvertently dropped closer to Derek’s and he can feel his skin tingle as he brushes against the other boy’s hand.  Just like in all those horror movies his parents don’t know he watches, an unconscious Derek grabs his hand like a lifeline, palm to palm, fingers locking around his slender wrist.  An unbreakable bracelet of flesh and bone.

 

It’s so sudden that Stiles doesn’t even have time to cry out.  All the air whooshes out of his lungs and as Stiles can feel himself being drawn out of his body he sees a figure, a very bright figure, not Laura he thinks, rush to his side grabbing his other hand and then he’s not in the hospital anymore.

 

When his head stops spinning and he opens his eyes Stiles cries out in horror.

 

He’s just entered hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has entered the hell that is Derek's own mind to rescue him from his destructive guilt. It is here that when wolves howl Stiles discovers the truth about the Hale family and the fire that destroyed them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly longer chapter, there just seemed to be so much to include. It's fairly dark and I hate to subject a young Stiles to what he sees but it had to be done for him to understand Derek.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and kind comments it is very inspiring and motivating. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed - this was a tough one to run through, have read it that many times it's imprinted to the back of my eyeballs and just hope you think it's ok (sorry I'm very needy I know).

Hell is a confusion of shadow and flame, heat and smoke.

 

Stiles has heard about it before of course, didn’t believe in it, he changes his mind very quickly when he sees and hears it firsthand. 

 

He’s been thrown in, dazed and confused, landing sprawled on polished wooden floorboards that feel hot under his palms.  Stiles scrambles to his feet, eyes wide as he looks around.  He’s all alone. 

 

The only light is from the flames which flicker wildly, causing dark shadows to dance crazily against the ceiling and walls.  Fear spikes through him, but he’s determined.  His Dad tells him to never let fear stop you from doing what you know is right.  Stiles knows that helping Derek is right.

 

He draws in a few shaky breaths to calm himself, but in this smoky nightmare they bite deep into his lungs and he’s coughing and spluttering.  He grabs the bottom of his t-shirt, pulls it up exposing his slender hip bones and pale stomach, and holds it over his mouth and nose trying to filter some of the smoke.

 

He’s standing inside a house.  A really big house, with a wooden staircase right in front of him that leads up to the next floor.   Stiles knows that this is the Hale family’s house, he’s never seen the actual building, but he’s seen the crime scene photos that were in the police report. 

 

He thinks it would be quite a nice home if it wasn’t a blazing inferno.

 

The very walls have flames licking inside of them, within the cavity, making the plaster crack and the paint bubble and peel in long hanging strips.  The floorboards have gaping holes where the fire has burnt through, exposing the bowels of the house like open wounds, a fiery red glow and thick smoke pouring out of them.  If the Devil himself rose out of one of those pits, Stiles wouldn’t be surprised at all.

 

The entire house is burning and amazingly it’s still standing.  It creaks and groans like a wounded animal, protesting at its dying.  Dry timbers crack loudly, like gunfire, making Stiles jump each and every time until they are so frequent, he starts not to hear them anymore. 

 

The fire is a monster, an unstoppable one that devours everything in its path and the Hale house is in its way.  The roar of flames sounds incredibly loud..  it sounds like a freight train, thundering down the tracks towards him and he can’t move.  

 

It’s so noisy that Stiles is torn between covering his ears or protecting his lungs from the smoky air when he hears…  howling. 

 

It’s the last thing he expected to hear in this particular nightmare and he’s frozen to the spot, not exactly with fear more like amazement at what sounds like wolves.  There are different tones and pitches, enough for him to guess there’s at least a half dozen somewhere nearby and if the fire is loud the wolves are deafening.   Their cries echo throughout the house, low and mournful.

 

 _‘Derek…   Derek…   Derek…’_   Stiles calls to the older boy with his mind.  Nothing.

 

Stiles pulls his shirt away from his mouth and calls out softly.

 

“Derek…  Derek…”  He’s a little bit worried about the wolves hearing him.  He doesn’t want to end up as a wolf version of a Scooby Snack..  a Stiles Snack, no indeedy. 

 

Almost immediately he hears “Stiles.” 

 

Derek’s voice is filled with urgency, calling his name and Stiles has never been more relieved.  He pulls the shirt back up to cover his mouth once more.

 

It’s almost strange to actually be physically hearing him with his ears and not in his head, even if Stiles is actually **_INSIDE_ ** Derek’s head. 

 

He’s real confused, it makes sense and it doesn’t, this is almost too ‘Matrix-like’ for Stiles’ brain to cope with.  He and Scott had watched the trilogy together, Scott liked it for the guns and slow-mo wicked reflexes and Stiles had liked it for the whole concept of what is reality.  Okay, he liked it for the sfx too.  He’s starting to wonder if he’s taken the red pill and gone down the rabbit hole. 

 

Derek still sounds the same.  Same deep pitch and tone, the difference is that when Stiles hears him in his head there is a feeling, he doesn’t quite know how to describe it.  A bond..   a connection, not like between him and Scott ‘coz that’s being best bro’s, this feels like it goes straight through the middle of his chest to what makes him Stiles. 

 

However, Stiles can’t deny that when he does hear Derek’s real voice, a vibration goes through his entire body like when you stand too close to big stereo speakers and feel the music pulse through you.  When he thinks on it, Stiles realises that one is as devastating to his senses as the other.

 

These feelings make his belly ache, but it’s not a hurt.  It’s a relentless tickle that’s almost too much.  If he could, he’d say ‘Uncle’. 

 

He looks into the room adjacent to the large entrance hall, the French doors standing wide open. Stiles sees Derek. His face is lit up by the red and orange glow of the flames, he’s looking back at him with fear all over his face and it’s for him. Derek’s afraid for him. Then he sees why.

 

Derek’s inside a circle of fire, the flames flicker and burn taller than Stiles stands.  There seems to be only one exit point, where the flames are so low you could step over them without harm.  That exit point is guarded by figures that look particularly hazy in the smoke, so much that they look.. not right..  not human somehow, with the way they crouch down low.. like animals.  Predatory animals.   One tips it’s head back and holy heck..  it starts to howl. 

 

Goosebumps shoot up Stiles’ arms and shoulders, to tease the nape of his neck before making the hair on his skull stand on end in a prickling wave of sensation.  Stiles is so afraid right now, he’s shaking with it, because his instincts are trying to tell him ‘yeah you know what the hell they are’ and his brain is saying ‘are you freakin’ nuts?’ 

  


Honestly, is he really quibbling about this while he’s somehow been sucked into this nightmare playing through the comatose mind of a 16 year old teenager?  Yes..  yes he is.

 

“Stiles..  go back.  Get away from here.”  Derek’s yelling at him desperately. 

 

At the moment the strange figures aren’t paying him any attention, they’re solely focused on Derek.  They seem frustrated, pacing to and fro, a couple of them dart at the exit trying to get through, but it’s like they hit a glass wall and rebound off, shaking themselves like dogs when they pick themselves off the floor.  It’s a circle of protection.  They can’t get to Derek while he’s in it.  

 

“What?  What do you mean?  You brought me here, Mr Grabby Hands.”  He calls back in frustration, before raising the hem of his shirt back up to cover his mouth again.  The smoke isn’t as thick in this room, but it’s still pretty bad.

 

“I did?”  He sounds like he can’t quite believe it.   “I.. I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to.”

 

Stiles needs to think, he presses the fabric of his shirt harder against his mouth and nose, making it wet as he mouths against the cotton, sucking on it as he concentrates. 

 

He just needs to work out what he’s gonna do and Derek prowling back and forth on the other side of the ring of fire, watching him intently is not helping.  He’s looking at Stiles exposed belly and pelvis in a way that’s making that tickling sensation inside feel like it’s just gonna make Stiles burst or pop like a balloon. 

 

He can’t handle it and drops the t-shirt back down so he’s covered up, he’ll just have to cope with the smoke. Derek sounds like he’s growling disapprovingly, in a so not-human kind of way.   Freaky. 

 

And to top it all off, now he looks down, Stiles can see he’s got a big wet patch of his drool on his t-shirt, smack dab about where it reaches his crotch.  Derek’s stopped on the other side of the flames and it seems he’s as close to them as he can possibly get without singeing something badly.  His eyes are focused on Stiles’..  oh my god..  Derek’s checking out his junk..  and his eyes are giving off their own heat that scorches Stiles skin ten times hotter than any of the flames that surround him.  All of which Stiles can just add to his growing list of ‘why my life’s so very, very strange.’

 

“Stiles.”  It’s just one word.  It’s just his name.  Derek’s voice is lower than he’s ever heard it before and Stiles’ pulse triphammers at his throat.  Why does it feel like Derek’s having an entire freakin’ conversation with him then?

 

Stiles’ heart feels like it’s jumping all over the place in his chest, has been since he first saw Derek haloed by the flames.  The Derek that is here is moving and vital, bizarrely more real and alive than the still and unconscious body that he’s left behind in the real world.  If that version of Derek was beautiful, the walking, talking and growly version here is stunning.

 

Stiles maybe ten, but he’s not dumb.  This place.  It’s not an actual place, it’s somewhere in Derek’s head.  He’s always known that.  He remembers the Sheriff saying to his Dad, that Derek should be awake, he shouldn’t be in a coma.  Is Derek stopping himself from waking up?

 

Something here is keeping Derek trapped and if it’s in his head surely that means..  it means everything here is made up.  It’s Derek’s own little freaky supernatural version of make-believe.  He can control it if he wants to ‘coz he created it and can change it too Stiles guesses.  But, can he stop it?

 

Stiles is going to test that theory by doing something really, really dumb.  He starts to walk to the opening of the circle, Derek’s yelling furiously.  He just hopes he knows what he’s doing.

 

“Stiles.. stop what are you doing?  Go back.  Please for God’s sake go back.”  The absolute fear in Derek’s voice almost makes him hesitate, but he can’t stop, has to keep going.

 

“Derek, it was you that brought me here.  You grabbed my hand and held on tight.”  Stiles keeps walking closer. He knows Derek cares about his safety.  Is it enough to trigger a change, get Derek to realise that he is the one in control?  

 

“You know deep down that you don’t want to be here..  that you don’t deserve this.  You just need some help, that’s all.”  Stiles is convinced of it.  Derek’s mind is torn in two between staying and leaving.  It just depends on which is stronger, his desire to be punished or his desire to live his life as a survivor of a terrible tragedy.

 

Derek’s so agitated and upset that he’s pacing Stiles on his side of the flaming barrier, mirroring his movements, as he makes his way closer and closer to the circle’s opening, his hands clenching and unclenching.

 

“Stop this Stiles.”  There’s a note in Derek’s voice that sends a wracking shiver down Stiles’ spine.  It is absolute authority and it instantly makes Stiles want to stop.   He feels out of control and that the only thing that makes any sense, that is right in the world is on the other side of the flames, watching him with a look that is dark and beckoning.  He can’t stop the trembling of his limbs.  It feels like Derek is summoning him to his side, where he’ll wrap his arms around Stiles and keep him safe.

 

The exchange of glances is broken when one of the creatures is suddenly right in front of him and Stiles gasps loudly, can’t believe what he’s seeing. 

 

“Yes.. go back little human.”  It’s shape is an adult female, but her face is distorted with heavy brows, cheeks and nose.  Fangs poke over the top of her bottom lip and her eyes blaze with red menace, claw like fingers tipped with razor sharp nails.  Her skin and clothes are stained with ash and soot.  “He is not worthy of a mate.”

 

“Stop it.. leave him alone.”  Derek’s running through the exit of the circle, elbows and thighs pumping hard as he puts every ounce of effort into reaching Stiles.  

 

The creatures howl and yip in excitement as Derek leaves what Stiles recognises was indeed the safety of the circle.  They couldn’t breech it so they were waiting until Derek had enough incentive to cross the line.  

 

Stiles doesn’t know what to think, that he’s the reason the older boy left safe ground is both mystifying and terrifying, because it means he makes Derek vulnerable.

 

Two of the other creatures swiftly spring in front of him and start slashing their claws at him.  Derek cries out in pain as they rake through the t-shirt he’s wearing, blood spraying through the slashes, crimson drops arcing in the firelight as they hit the ground.  

 

Stiles can see that Derek isn’t fighting back, watches as he collapses to the floor.  The others gather round and they take turns hacking and slashing at him with their claws, at his belly, arms, back and face.  Their faces feral and gleeful with every blow.  The female snarls, the others back away. 

 

Derek’s head is bowed as he struggles to get up on his hands and knees.  Two of them continue to rake at him, they look like young females, their eyes blaze gold.  The older female looks on approvingly, as if knowing that these two can wound Derek in more ways than just the physical.

 

“Derek.”  Stiles screams his name in horror.  Derek lifts his head from where he’s now crouching, his eyes are glowing.  They are glowing the most brilliant electric blue and Stiles can only look at him in amazement. 

 

He starts to go towards him, wants to help him even if he has the most beautiful freaky eyes he’s ever seen, maybe because of them.  Stiles is running straight at the two furies who are hurting Derek and deliberately cannonballs right into the back of one of them, so she trips and stumbles over Derek. 

 

Stiles crouches over Derek, holding his breath, as he braces himself to take any blows that maybe aimed at the other boy.  Instinctively needing to protect him.  The second female turns to lash out at him, when Derek’s got him and pulls him out of the way just in time. 

 

Derek drags Stiles down and tucks him beneath him, using his own body as a shield when it starts again. He can feel every flinch, gasp and moan of pain as they rain down blows and claws onto Derek’s exposed back.  Derek has his head tucked down near Stiles’ ear, breath hard and fast against his neck.  Stiles whimpers, knowing the punishment Derek is receiving above him, Derek’s body curled around him protectively.

 

“Stiles…   don’t worry…   won’t let..  hurt you… mine..my mate…   protect…”  He nuzzles his ear in comfort and then Stiles is being yanked away.

 

The older female has reached in and grabbed his upper arm in a vice-like grip while kicking Derek in the ribs with enough force to lift him into the air and send him flying, frantically scrabbling to hang onto Stiles. 

 

Stiles tries to pull away, she only holds him even harder until it feels like her fingers are digging in so deep to his flesh that she’s holding him by the bone itself, rather than his arm.  Stiles winces, but manages to stifle the moans of pain that sit on his tongue ready to roll off at any minute if she applies even one fingernail more amount of pressure.

 

“Stiles don’t move.. it’s okay.  It’ll be okay.”  Derek promises as he finally manages to get to his feet, swaying unsteadily.  Stiles feels sick there is a gash on Derek’s face, on his cheek and it looks like the claw that has gouged his flesh has penetrated clean through, exposing..  is that.. oh my god it is..  Stiles can see Derek’s teeth through the gaping wound.  As he watches Derek’s skin knits together and before his amazed eyes it heals. 

 

“Mom..  please I’m begging you..  let him go.”  The shirt Derek’s wearing is in tatters, his skin is as torn and slashed as his clothes.   The healing surges through the rest of his body and the wounds vanish in an instant, returning his damaged flesh to normal.  His skin is slick, glistening with his own blood. 

 

“This is your Mom?”  Stiles flicks Derek a horrified look, before turning his face up to look at her now that he’s so close.  As he says it her face ripples disturbingly and before he can even blink her face is completely normal, no fangs, no excessive hair.   She’s quite striking, with her dark hair and eyes.  He can see Derek and Laura in her.

 

This family’s gene pool is definitely tilted to the excessively good looking side, he wonders if it’s linked to the werewolf gene.  Okay, looks like the brain finally got on board.  And why is he being so outwardly calm about this?  When inside, he feels like he’s a jumbled up mess of fear and amazement. 

 

Inside, Stiles is reeling.  The Hale family are werewolves.  Holy smoke.  Derek and his family are a pack of werewolves.  The only question is are they just werewolves in Derek’s traumatised mind or are they the real deal outside of it too?  Howling at the full moon, silver bullets and everything.

 

Derek’s Mom puts her hand against his cheek, petting him like he’s some lost little kitten she’s found.  He tries not to flinch when he realises it’s actually a solitary sharp claw that she’s dragging against the flesh, not cutting just scraping delicately.  Goosebumps lift in its wake and he shudders.

 

“He killed us.”  She snarls at Stiles, upper lip curling back to reveal longer than usual canine teeth.

 

“It was a fire.. it was an accident.”   Stiles knows that it wasn’t, he’d peeked at the report after his Dad had looked at it.  The notes he’d attached to it for the Sheriff strongly recommended further investigation due to a number of irregularities found at the crime scene and in evidence.  He’s trying to distract Talia Hale from attacking her own son.

 

“It was no accident..  he betrayed us.  He betrayed us all.  Our son, our brother, our nephew.”  She whirls at Derek, fury in her eyes. 

 

“Look at what you have done.”  She throws out a clawed hand, indicating the other figures gathered around.  They nearly all look like wolf-like creatures except the blonde lady and the baby.  She doesn’t look any less dangerous for being human, her face twisted into furious murderous rage.  

 

They start to scream in anger and fury and Stiles can barely pick out the words they are threaded with such immense rage.

 

“I looked up to you big brother, wanted to be like you so much.  You said you were going to coach me in basketball..  it never happened did it..  you killed me instead.”  A younger male werewolf strides boldly to where Derek is standing and spits in his face, which is real messy when you’ve got a muzzle.

 

They take turns to accuse and vent their fury and rage on an increasingly paler Derek, his face strained, who looks to Stiles to be trembling where he stands, absorbing one verbal blow after the other.  His shoulders bowing under their weight.

 

“Son, my son.  Why?  Why?”  A mature male werewolf just looks at Derek with such disappointment, Stiles thinks it’s more painful than if he had actually struck him.  Derek grimaces in agony, as if he’s been hurt deep inside where no one can see it.

 

“You said you loved us..  that we were special, your twins..  stopped Laura from picking on us..  told us you would always protect us..  well who protected us from you.”  It is the twin girls that have been the most vicious in their attacks on Derek.  Stiles realises that Derek must have been particularly close to his younger sisters, it makes their hatred of him in this place more of a punishment to him.  

 

When the baby starts to wail in misery, pain and anger that is what drives Derek to his knees.  He wraps his arms around his middle and starts to rock back and forth, his despair a living thing that shrouds him, as tears stream down his face.

 

“Lucy..  No.. no please.  I didn’t mean for this to happen.  I didn’t..  I love you.  I love you all so much.  Dad.. Cora..Diana..”  He begs of them and Stiles can feel tears streaming down his own face as he realises just how damaged Derek is and how much he’s lost.

 

Eventually, Derek’s family stop.  One after the other they collapse to the ground before Derek, returning to their human forms, all except Derek’s Mom.  Talia Hale.  She remains standing, observing.  The sole judge, jury and executioner. 

 

Two girls, so alike they are the twins.  They look like younger versions of Laura.  His sisters, Cora and Diana.  A younger version and a much older bearded version of Derek.  His brother and father, Daniel and David.  The pretty blonde woman holding the little baby.  A man who looks so similar to Talia they could be twins and is of an age to be her brother.  They are Derek’s uncle, aunt and baby cousin.  Nathan, Victoria and baby Lucinda.  This is the Hale family.  This is Derek’s family.

 

Their names are etched into Stiles’ mind since reading the report on the fire.  A family destroyed in less than an hour.  The fire so intense, that not all the bodies have been recovered.

 

Derek’s family start to struggle to breathe where they are lying, bodies writhing and twisting fighting to live, fighting for gasps of oxygen when there is only smoke to be found.  Their struggles eventually cease and they become still.  Within seconds they start to burn. 

 

Stiles turns away, he can’t watch and the baby.. that will haunt him forever he thinks, tears trickle down his face, the smoke and ash smudged romper suit so discoloured that it had taken him a long time to realise it’s original colour was pink.  The giveaway was one small spot of bright pink material encasing the heel of the tiny, tiny foot. 

 

That’s the point he realises.  Derek’s brain is punishing him for his supposed betrayal.  He didn’t die when he entered the house, so he’s locked down his very mind into one giant torture chamber so he can relive his crime over and over again, tormented by the victims.  His own family. 

 

Stiles gags at the smell, it’s too much like the roast dinner his Mom cooks, and his mouth waters even though his brain is telling him that it’s not, that it’s wrong.  He knows that this is another memory of Derek’s, a sensory one and he cringes inside.  

 

It’s all so twisted that Stiles feels he is drowning in a darkness of pain, misery and self-hate.  What happened to cause Derek to despise himself so much?  This is more than not being able to save his family from a tragic fire.

 

“Did you?”  He asks, from where he’s collapsed when the angry grieving woman releases him as she watches her family die and burn.  He’s hunched over, kneeling on the ground his stomach quite determined to bring up its contents, with or without his say so. 

 

“Did you betray them?”  No way, he thinks.  No.  Not Derek.

 

Derek’s face is agonized as he says “Yes.”

 

“So you started the fire?”  Stiles is thinking furiously, he has to be methodical.  He has to be careful, needs to guide Derek to the right conclusion so he will release himself from this prison.  No matter what he says Stiles knows there is no way Derek is guilty of murdering his family.  He’s not even lifted a finger to defend himself from their attacks, as if he can’t bear to hurt them even though they shred, tear and rend parts of him that Stiles can’t even bring himself to think about.

 

“No.. but..”  Stiles doesn’t give him the opportunity to add any further details before he’s firing another question.  Has to keep him unsettled, not give him a chance to think.

 

“Then who did?”  .

 

“Kate.”

 

“And Kate is who?”

 

“She’s a hunter… said she and her family followed the code…  the code between hunters and werewolves to protect the innocent, human and wolf.”  Derek’s face is angry and grief stricken. 

 

“How do you know it was her?”

 

“She phoned me.  I was in the car and she..  she rang to tell me what she had done..”  Derek’s eyes are haunted when he looks into Stiles'.  “She laughed Stiles..  my family was dying and she..  she laughed.”

 

“She said she loved me, but wanted to wait to meet my family because..  because there’s still distrust..  and I believed her..  she used me.. why would she love me?  Why would anyone love me?”  Derek’s eyes are wild with emotional pain, flashing blue sparks. 

 

A voice whispers in Stiles’ ear or is it in his head, can’t tell if it’s male or female.  It’s just there.  For Pete’s sake, who else is talking to him now?  He can tell it’s not Derek and it’s not his own thoughts.  They’re just too separate.

 

“Tell him.  Tell him why.  He needs to hear it.  Needs to hear it from you.”  It stops, but Stiles knows it’s just waiting, listening.

 

“Derek..”  Stiles falters.  “Why wouldn’t someone love you?  You’re gentle, kind and..  and anyone you love would be the luckiest person in the world, because you’d love them with all of you.  Jeez, I’ve only known you one day and I can see it.”

 

“Oh Stiles.”  Derek laughs bitterly.  “I only bring pain and death.  You should really stay away from me”

 

“I can’t.”  He says simply, looking at the other boy as his heart thumps wildly, Derek’s eyes open wide and he looks as though he’s about to say..

 

“You’re a fool.  To think I whelped a weak helpless pup like you.”  Talia grabs the back of Stiles’ neck, hauls him up off where he’s sitting back on his heels and onto his knees, tipping his head back and exposing his throat.  Her fingers flash before him, her nails long and sharp, ready to slice. 

 

“She used you to destroy us..  and you let her.  She never loved you.”  Her voice drips with contempt as she looks at her eldest son.  Derek hangs his head, hunched over, his knuckles pressed to the floorboards.

 

“Derek.”  Stiles voice rises sharply.  “Please.  A woman that you thought loved you, she betrayed you and your family.  You’re as much a victim as the rest of them.  Do you really believe that they would ever.. ever think you did this on purpose?”  He pauses, swallowing hard. 

 

“You’re not trusting your family.  Do you think they wouldn’t forgive you?  You’re wrong, so wrong.  Don’t punish yourself for that.  Kate wins twice over if you do.”  His eyes are drawn to the sharp nails on the hand flexing in front of his face and he can’t help but whine fearfully. 

 

“Derek, please..  this isn’t really your Mom.  You know that.  She would never do this to you..  not to your mate.”

 

Stiles can see Derek’s head jerk upwards as he says the word that he’s been hearing quite a lot today.  Thinks that they’re talking about him, kinda really hopes it anyway.  He doesn’t know exactly what it means, just knows that it’s very important to Derek. 

 

Derek looks at him his eyes huge and he says “My mate” so, so softly that Stiles has to lip read to understand it.

 

“He won’t come he’s a coward as much as a traitor.  Not even for his mate.”  Derek’s Mom is looking down at him, her hand starting to fall ready to slice his throat open, when a hand grabs it in mid-descent.

 

“For Stiles I will.”  Derek’s suddenly right there, holding her arm, preventing her from completing the killing blow. 

 

She looks at him in confusion and Stiles thinks for an instant he sees warmth and pride on her face when she looks at her son.  He realises that’s her real expression, it’s a real memory, one that Derek’s seen numerous times on his mother’s face.  Not the murderous beast who’s willing to slash his throat open and let him bleed to death.

 

This has been Derek’s mind telling him that his family would despise him, hate him for what he’s supposedly done.  It’s the only way he’s been able to cope with the grief and guilt, by punishing himself.  He’d kept himself prisoner in his own mind.

 

Whatever, they have just endured Stiles thinks it might’ve broken the horrific cycle of guilt and punishment that Derek has been putting himself through.  Slowly Derek’s mother disintegrates into ash as do the other members of Derek’s murdered family. 

 

The ash swirls high in the air, Stiles realises that there is no roof above him now, only a night sky full of stars.  The trail of Derek’s family scatters amongst the galaxies, that turn above him on display, before disappearing. 

 

Silence settles over the house and Stiles realises that the house is no longer burning, the godawful noise of the flames has ceased and there’s just ash, charcoal and smoke swirling around the floor.

 

Derek moves and Stiles finds himself hauled into his arms, feet off the floor and Derek’s got his face buried in the side of his neck and..  and is he sniffing him?  Seriously, werewolves.

 

“I can’t..  I can’t..”  Derek’s repeating the words over and over again.  Until Stiles reaches up with his hands and cups his face that’s buried against him dragging it up.  Derek lets him.  His eyes are closed.

 

“What can’t you?” 

 

“I can’t Stiles..  I can’t lose you too.”  Derek’s eyes open and there is something in them that Stiles doesn’t understand, it’s new and scary and makes Stiles stomach feel squishy and he can’t decide if it’s a good feeling or a really great one.  Derek holds him tighter to his hard chest, Stiles legs are still dangling, his feet not touching the ground.

 

With a sigh Derek puts him down and grabs Stiles hand and drags him towards the light that Stiles can now see is in the huge hallway with the staircase.  It’s the front door to the house that’s glowing. 

 

“You’ve got to get out of here.”  Derek glances over his shoulder, the circle of flame where he’d been trapped for so long has also subsided until it’s just a faint red glow of embers. 

 

“Not just me.  You’re free.. you just need to wake up now.  You grabbed me out there in the real world.  Doesn’t that tell you that you don’t want to be here..”  Stiles explains and grabs hold of Derek’s hand looking at him, willing him to believe. “You need to come with me.”

 

“Hurry.. hurry Stiles, before she..”  Derek jerks to a stop. 

 

In front of them is a young woman, early twenties and very pretty with long blonde hair.  She’s wearing a white silk nightgown, the kind with the thin straps that show off her shoulders and neck and..   other things.  It makes Stiles blush to see.

 

The smoke swirls around her feet and it would all be very romantic if she wasn’t also holding a pump action shotgun, the very big kind that Stiles knows can put a hole in you, big enough to put your fist through.

 

“Hello lover.  It’s been a while.  Who’s your little friend?”  Her voice is husky and seductive, edged with a hard bite of sarcasm.

 

“Kate.. I’m gonna kill you.”  Derek growls.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek have faced the horrors of the imaginary Hale Family as they try and escape the trap that is Derek's mind when they encounter a far more deadlier foe, Kate, the woman who murdered his family. Will they escape? And why are they all calling him 'mate' Stiles wonders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and kind comments that have been posted here. It is really a wonder to me and I am indebted to you all for the encouragement to keep going and helping me improve my writing. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed - a lone wolf production.

“Hello lover.  It’s been a while.  Who’s your little friend?”  Her voice is husky and seductive, edged with a hard bite of sarcasm.

 

“Kate.. I’m gonna kill you.”  Derek growls.

 

She walks towards them and Stiles starts to blush, because the light’s behind her from the glowing doorway and the gown is white and he can see..  he can see everything.  Any other person he’d be trying to burn the image into his memory via his retinas, but she’s a killer.  A killer of children.

 

His eyes burn and a horrible angry dismayed feeling rises from his belly to sit in his chest, a terrible weight that crushes around his heart.  The things in this place are part memory he understands that, so Derek more than likely did see this woman dressed like this. 

 

He doesn’t know what to think, this feels like..  like when Lydia Martin had smiled at Jackson Whittemore, who’s an A-grade douche, in his English class the other day, Stiles had wanted to punch his lights out.  This feels ten times..  a hundred times worse.

 

“You’re a little cutie aren’t you.”  Kate winks at Stiles and he can feel his face turn hot with anger and embarrassment.

 

“Leave him alone.”  Snarls Derek.  Stiles looks up at him and gasps, Derek’s face has changed.  It’s not just the eyes.  He looks like the wolf beasts that his imaginary family were.  All heavy brows, fangs and hair.  His eyes flash electric blue.  Derek ignores his reaction, just drags Stiles behind him out of her sight, he struggles to peek around Derek's broad chest.

 

“I might want a new playmate and he looks like fun.  You were so much fun too.”  She smiles sweetly almost as though they’re sharing happy memories. “Before I broke you.”

 

“You were so desperate to love and be loved weren’t you Derek that you didn’t even take the time to think it through.  So much pain for one so young.  Your little Paige gone and you needed someone to understand, someone to love and there I was, just waiting for you.”  She quirks her eyebrow, as she lifts her gun, points it directly at Derek’s chest.  “But bored now, ready to move on.” 

 

“Derek listen to me, she’s not real.  It’s like my Mom says, when you stand up to a bully you beat them, like what you just did with your Mom, you faced up to her.  This is your mind trying to play tricks on you.”  Stiles hangs onto the back of Derek’s jeans, his fingers tucked into the waistband feeling the heat of Derek’s skin against his knuckles.  It burns, but he doesn’t remove them.

 

“I’m very real Derek.  You were so sweet.  Didn’t want to rush me.  My little virgin wolf and all I had to do was play a little dress up and you were panting for it.”  She waves a hand in front of the nightgown and Stiles is peering around Derek and can just make out the expression on his face, even through the werewolf features Stiles can see pain in his blue eyes and in the harsh lines either side of his mouthful of fangs. 

 

“It was all lies.  The accidental meeting at the bookstore…  The dead boyfriend you were grieving…  The father who kept pushing you into the hunter life against your will.  Lies.. all of it.”  There is a bitterness in Derek’s voice that coats the words and Stiles can picture all too easily how Kate had worked her way into the older boy’s life and gained his trust.  It makes him sick at the betrayal.

 

“Who’s ever going to love a monster like you Derek?”  Kate smirks in a way that makes Stiles want to hit her, but he can’t because his Dad has always told him that ‘real men are always gentlemen and never harm a lady, no matter what.’  It’s such a stupid rule.  He seriously needs to talk to his Dad about exceptional circumstances.

 

“You couldn’t keep it in your pants and look what happened..  oh no.. no more Mom and Dad...  no more family..  no more pack.. all so you could get laid.”  Derek flinches, Stiles can feel it through his fingers and he rubs his knuckles soothingly against the hot flesh of Derek’s back, feels the tension lessen a fraction.

 

“Do you think your mates’ going to love you when he knows about all the bad.. terrible.. things you’ve done?  I don’t think so..  look at him..  he’s so positively virtuous that he’ll run a mile when he finds out.  Trust you to pick one so young..  you really are a monster.. you want him even now when he’s just a little innocent kid.”  Kate shakes her head, tsk tsking under her tongue. 

 

Stiles can’t stand it anymore, he’s not understood the conversation entirely but he can feel waves of terrible grief and remorse rolling through Derek’s body.  Not all of it is for his family either, some of it is for Stiles too.  She’s making Derek feel real bad and she’s using him to do it.  No, he really, really can’t stand it. 

 

“Shut up you bitch.”  Stiles chest is heaving he’s so mad and worked up that he says a bad word and thankfully his Mom isn’t there to hear it because she would tear strips off him for it too. 

 

“I saw the police report.  The fire started at 7.15 in the morning and it got me thinking.  Why would an arsonist start a fire then?  Surely the best time would be the early hours of the morning.  Two, three o’clock.  Everyone’s asleep, it’s dark and the smoke would make it all confusing.”  Stiles is starting to pant because he’s talking so fast, he’s trying to pull it back like his Mom’s taught him, but his outrage is fuelling him and he can’t stop..  can’t stop..  he’s just gotta let it pour out or it will overwhelm him.

 

“If you’re some sort of hotshot hunter you would’ve been watching every move that family made.  When I read the witness statements I knew..  I worked it out Kate.. you knew that Derek always left at 7am to go to the basketball team’s morning practice.”  Derek visibly stiffens, his muscles tensing as he listens to what Stiles has to say.

 

“You knew he wouldn’t be in the house when you started the fire.  Don’t you dare say you didn’t care about him, because I know you did.  Derek got to you didn’t he?”  Kate looks blank as if she doesn’t quite know how to react, but this is Derek’s head, Derek’s nightmare so maybe it’s really him that doesn’t know how to react.

 

“You had to ring him didn’t you.. just to be sure.  That he was out..  told yourself it was to torment him, yeah that was probably part of it, but you didn’t want him dead.”                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

 

“He’s easy to love isn’t he?”  Stiles almost shouts the question, before he quite realises just how it sounds.  Sounds like he.. oh boy.  He gulps air frantically.

 

A deafening silence rings out and Stiles tries not to blush as two pairs of incredulous eyes turn to look at him.  Derek’s fangs peek out as he almost smiles down at the younger boy.  There’s a look in his electric blue ones, it’s thoughtful as if Stiles has given him something to puzzle over.  Maybe he has, he can only hope that Derek sees the truth in time.  That he’s not unlovable.

 

“Ooohh.  You do like to talk dirty don’t ‘cha.   Well, let’s get to it sweet cheeks.  That’s enough foreplay.”  She lifts her gun and fires point blank at Stiles, only Derek steps in front of him and takes a direct hit to the chest.  Spatters of blood stain her white gown. 

 

There’s blood all over Derek’s shirt, Stiles thinks she hit a lung ‘coz the blood that’s oozing out, it’s all frothy and bubbly.  He wishes he didn’t know that.  Damn his curiosity and “Gunshot wounds: a medical reference” the book that satisfied it.

 

Derek’s staggering, groaning in pain, his hand still locked on Stiles’ arm as he drags him forward and he’s pushing Stiles towards the light. 

 

“Go Stiles.. please.”  He begs the younger boy, his eyes dark with pain.

 

“No I can’t.. I can’t leave you Derek.”  He holds the older boy’s hand tight.  His eyes glued to the still bleeding wound.  “You’re not healing.” 

 

“You have to..  something’s wrong Stiles..  I.. I don’t feel right.  If you stay any longer I don’t think you’ll ever get out.”  He shoves Stiles to the light making him stumble, as he collapses to the floor.

 

“Oh come on Derek..  you know the drill.  Silver jacketed Wolfsbane rounds, baby.  Only the best for you, because you are so worth it.”  Kate puckers up her lips and gives a smacking air kiss towards him. 

 

He turns back to see Derek watching him and behind him Kate is lifting her gun again. She does the one handed jerking pump on the shotgun to load another round in the chamber, in the movies it’s always looked kinda awesome, here and now with Derek bleeding on the floor it just looks..  scary.

 

Stiles reaches down and puts his hand under the other boy’s armpit trying to haul him back onto his feet.  He strains as hard as he can, until he feels like..  he feels like he’s splitting in two.   It doesn’t hurt, just feels like a part of him is peeling away, stripping off like another person..  Oh my god.. oh my god.. he realises that there’s someone on the other side of Derek now, helping him up by the other arm. 

 

“Mom.”  Stiles says in disbelief at the same time Derek says “It’s you.”

 

“Hi boys.”  His Mom’s hair is long and she’s not thin and sick looking…   and she’s glowing.  His Mom is frickin’ glowing, like a firefly or something, all light and golden.

 

“Thanks for the piggyback, Tickles.”  She winks at him.  “Momma’s gotta go kick some ass.  Derek would you kindly send my son home?”

 

Derek looks as dazed as Stiles feels, which is kind of a relief because if he was the only one who’d had his mind just blown, well that wouldn’t be right.  That wouldn’t be right at all.

 

“Yes ma’am.”  Derek takes him by the arm and as Stiles looks over his shoulder he can see his Mom closing in on Kate who’s got a look on her face like she’s just peed her pants.  Mom grabs the shotgun barrel and yanks it out of Kate’s hand, before throwing it to one side, it skids along the floorboards.

 

“Kate, why don’t you try taking on an adult instead of kids.”  She hauls back her arm and when her fist connects with Kate’s nose Stiles hears a satisfactory crack.  “That’s from my friend Talia Hale and I’m holding back.  Derek’s Mom would’ve killed you if she were here, for hurting her son.”

 

A noise comes from Derek, he sounds like he’s choking back tears.  

 

“Don’t you ever pick on my boys again.”  The next one is an uppercut to the jaw and Kate is sent flying back several feet.  “This one is for Derek..”  Smack.  “This one is for Laura..”  Smack..  “This one is for..

 

His Mom is a total bad ass etc.. etc...  she would really kill him for thinking ‘those’ words.

 

Then Derek’s pushing him and he falls into the light.

 

“Derek.. Derek.”  Stiles returns to his body to find the hospital room full of people. 

 

Laura is holding him from behind, her arms surround him gently and someone, a nurse, he thinks is trying to break Derek’s grip on his hand and arm.  They want to shock him, they’ve got the paddles out and ready but they can’t while he’s touching Stiles.  Stiles tries to tug his hand away, but Derek’s grip is rigid and inflexible, like stone.

 

The machines are lit up and warning sirens are buzzing and beeping, a doctor is pressing his stethoscope to Derek’s bare chest, his t-shirt has been cut off, and is listening to his heart.  His face is grim.. when he says “I’m calling it.  Time of death...” Stiles doesn’t hear anymore, his hearing distorts like he’s underwater.

 

“Derek..  Derek..”  Stiles can feel tears dripping down his face.  Laura howls into his back, her grief a heavy weight upon him.  She clings to him tightly, her tears soaking into his shirt.   Stiles feels cold.

 

A nurse with a kind face, wraps an arm around Laura’s shoulders and gently guides her to sit down in the only chair in the room.  Laura huddles in it, her face pressed to her knees as she sobs uncontrollably. 

 

The nurses switch off the machines and an almost eerie silence descends on the room.  They manage to release his hand from the death grip Derek has on him.  He’s lying so still.  So pale.  So beautiful.

 

“Who’s the kid?”  One of the nurses asks softly.  Another shrugs.

 

“I think his Mom’s up in Oncology.  His Dad’s a Deputy or something. Don’t know how he ended up here. I’ll take him back up.”  She grips Stiles’ hand like he’s a little kid who needs help crossing the road and he starts to follow her meekly out the door, tears still streaming down his face, when he looks back.  He can’t, can’t leave him without..  

 

He yanks his arm, pulling his hand out of her grasp and he’s running, running and launching himself at Derek and he puts his mouth next to his ear.

 

“Come back to me Derek.  Don’t leave me alone.  Come back.”  He says it out loud, but thinks it as well just in case.

 

The nurse is trying to drag him off the bed and he wants to just give Derek the only thing he can.  His lips brush against his cheek and as he’s pulled away, they catch the corner of Derek’s lips.  Stiles can feel his burn in response and he presses the back of his hand against his mouth to ease the sensation.  It doesn’t help really.

 

She’s holding his arm tightly now, not that she needs to.  Stiles has no intention of running, no intention of doing anything at all except maybe curling into his Mom and asking why this has happened.  How did his Mom even get inside Derek’s head?   God, what if she didn’t get out?  What will he do if he’s lost both of them?  His chest hurts.

 

They’re waiting for the elevator to arrive at their floor, when he hears it.  It starts with loud clatters and bangs and what sounds like something heavy being knocked over.  Then it happens, he hears it and Stiles heart starts to thump with a wild, crazed beat.

 

It’s a roar, like an animal.  It’s hunting.  Hunting for him, he knows it intuitively. He can see the hospital staff look at one another nervously, because really.. was that an animal in here?  Someone call security.  No, call Animal Control.

 

“Stiles.”  His name is being roared down the corridor, he looks back over his shoulder and Derek’s standing at the doorway of his hospital room.  His sister, behind him.   

 

He starts running when the elevator doors open with a perky ding and the nurse pushes Stiles into the empty car.  Stiles tries to look around her and he can see Derek running even faster.  He’s all lean muscle, his arms pumping and his ribcage moving rapidly with each step, only clad in hospital regulation light blue sleep pants that cling to his thighs.  He’s running so fast, that Stiles is having trouble keeping track of him, he’s a blur. 

 

“Stiles.”  His voice sounds frantic.  Desperate.

 

The nurse is trying to get the doors to shut when it’s too late.  She gives a little hiccup of fright when Derek’s there in the elevator and he’s pushing her out, non-too gently.  The doors close and it starts to go up and Derek whirls and slams his hand over the red emergency stop button.  It jerks to a stop almost knocking Stiles off his feet, but Derek has his arm and keeps him steady.

 

“Derek.”  Stiles breathes his name, can hardly believe it.  He’d thought he’d lost him.  Lost him forever.

 

Derek’s panting hard and Stiles can’t drag his eyes away from the older boy.  Derek is perfect.  Lean sculpted muscle and defined bone all where it should be.  The faint line of hair trailing down from his belly button has Stiles enthralled, makes him lick his lips nervously. 

 

“Stiles.. I..”  Derek groans and drops to his knees and sweeps the younger boy into a bruising hug.  His face buried in Stiles’ neck.  He nuzzles the tender flesh, inhaling deeply and Stiles feels a blush sweep over him from head to toe when he feels a tongue press to the side of his neck in a firm but gentle lick.  Derek’s chest is heaving harder when he pulls back to look into Stiles eyes.  “How old are you Stiles?”

 

“I’m almost eleven.”

 

“So you’re only just ten.”  Derek smirks at the outraged look on Stiles face.  He gathers the boy up into his arms, squeezing him tight, before dropping his forehead onto Stiles’ chest.  He’s mumbling under his breath.  “I can do this.. I can do this..  what’s eight years in a lifetime?  Nothing..”  He groans loudly.  “Everything.  Can’t wait, but have to.. have to..” 

 

He freezes when he feels Stiles lift his arms and wrap them around his neck.

 

“I’m glad you’re alive Derek.  I didn’t want you to go.. I couldn't lose you.”  He drops his head, letting his cheek rub against the black hair.

 

“You’ll never lose me Stiles.  I may have to go away, but I’ll be back.  I’ll come back for you I promise."  He sighs softly.  "When you turn eighteen.”  Stiles looks into Derek’s eyes and loses his focus for a moment.  Derek said his eyes were green, they may have green in them somewhere but they also have a myriad spectrum of colours that dazzle Stiles.  He has to shake his head to clear it or stay mesmerized.

 

“That’s forever.”  He whines, pulls a face, great that just made him sound like a little kid.

 

“Don’t I know it.. nah I didn’t really mean that.  It’ll go quick.”  

 

“You’ll come back.  You pinky swear it.”  Stiles holds his hand out, pinky finger hooked out.

 

“Of course.”  The two boys let their pinky fingers entwine, sealing the promise. That their hands remain entangled and Derek doesn't seem to want to pull his away gives Stiles a funny feeling in his stomach.  He hopes that Derek can't feel how his hand is trembling, but he doubts it.

 

“Derek..  my Mom she..  she was there right?”  Even now Stiles struggles to comprehend that his mother appeared like some superhero, right in the nick of time.

 

“Yeah..  Stiles your Mom is awesome.  She kicked Kate’s butt.”  He pauses, looks into Stiles’ eyes as though considering what he’s going to say next.  “We talked and she asked me to look out for you.  I told her that I was already planning to.” 

 

Stiles frowns as he considers that, it sounds like Derek’s trying to tell him something but he’s not sure exactly what. 

 

“Mom’s gotta black belt in Karate and I’ve been going to classes too, I can take care of myself.” 

 

“I know but this is something I want to do.  I need to do, is that okay with you?”  There’s worry in his tone that hadn’t been there before and Stiles feels guilty, doesn’t want to hurt the other boy’s feelings.  He nods his head frantically, wanting to reassure him. 

 

“Alright.  Be careful though.. I don’t want you to hurt yourself at these classes.  Is the instructor qualified?”  His hand gently grips Stiles bicep as though he has to check right now at this very minute that he’s not hurt.  Stiles just gives him a look and Derek smiles almost wistfully as if he can’t believe what’s coming out of his mouth either.

 

“Derek..  uhh this may sound strange, but are you a werewolf?”  Stiles can’t believe he’s even asked, but he really can’t help himself.  His curiosity is too strong, it overwhelms him and his mouth runs away before he can ask the question in a less obvious way.

 

“Yes.”  His eyes flash blue and his canines elongate for a brief instant before returning to normal.

 

“Awesome.”  Stiles thinks hard for a minute, back to some of the stuff that Kate had taunted Derek with.  “So, I’m your mate?” 

 

Derek blushes, a red strip of colour glows across his cheeks and nose.  His hands flex and clench like he can’t control them, even the one that Stiles has a hold of, and his jaw hardens like he’s gritting his teeth.

 

“Yes.”  There’s a sound in Derek’s voice, it’s doubt and it’s anticipation of not being wanted, being rejected.  Stiles hates to hear it. 

 

“You can’t tell anyone Stiles.  Not your Mom or Dad.  Not your best friend.  No one, because Kate and other people like her are still out there.  It wouldn’t be safe for anyone else to know.  That’s why Laura and I have to go away, it’s not safe for us to stay here and if we did I don’t think..  I don’t think I’d be strong enough to stay away from you.”  Derek whispers the last few words like it’s a secret, Stiles is holding his breath but he really doesn’t know why.

 

Stiles nods his head, Kate is dangerous and he doesn’t want anyone to get hurt because of him. 

 

“Does it mean you’ll always be my friend?”  He asks quietly.

 

Derek nods his head, his eyes glowing.  “Yes.  It means that you’re closer to me than anyone else on the planet Stiles and that will never ever change, unless you want it to.”

 

“It’s a deal, never ever right, no takebacks.”  He smiles at Derek, a real honest to god, genuine smile that he’d not been able to give for such a long time.  Derek sways on his knees, smiling back at him dazedly and his eyes are fixed on Stiles’ face like he’s trying to memorise it.

 

“Derek..”  Stiles begins hesitantly.  “I’m really going to miss you.”  His eyes sting and he’s trying really hard not to cry because..  he’s in front of this awesome guy who’s so cool..  a werewolf and amazingly he likes him back and… and it’s just not fair 'coz he's gotta leave. 

 

Then he looks up and struggles to breathe because there is a tear trailing down the beautiful slope of Derek’s cheekbone.  Stiles can’t help himself he pulls Derek’s head close to his, all the time knowing that Derek’s letting him do it, and places a kiss right on the top of that lone tear pressing it into Derek’s skin before pulling back, shocked at his own boldness. 

 

It smears salt water over his lips and Derek’s holding his t-shirt at the back in a tight grip his other hand is wrapped around his waist and he’s slowly pulling Stiles towards him, his eyes never leaving his damp lips, it makes him so nervous that Stiles flicks his tongue out to lap the salt into his mouth.

 

Derek releases him abruptly, throwing himself back and into the corner where he huddles hiding his face in his hands.  Stiles admires the graceful curve of Derek’s spine that leads to two dimples at the base of it.  It takes him a moment to realise that Derek’s shaking, he’s wrapped his arms around his body and is rocking back and forth as though to ease a really bad stomach ache.

 

He crouches near him, instinctively knowing that Derek doesn’t want him to touch him right now.

 

“Does your stomach hurt?”  The worry and concern in his voice prompt Derek to turn and look at him.  He does look sick, really flushed and sweating with fever, his body shaking.

 

“Yeah..  round there anyway.”  Derek tries to smile at him.  “Don’t worry Stiles it’ll pass.  I’ll be fine.  Okay.”  His voice sounds rough and stilted.

 

The elevator starts to jerk upwards, someone’s found the override.

 

“Stiles..  can I..  I want to kiss you.. please?”  Derek’s asking him and Stiles feels like the earth’s shifting beneath his feet or is that just the elevator.  He nods his head, he can’t stop it from moving he wants this so bad.

 

Derek leans forward and presses his lips softly and sweetly in the briefest of butterfly kisses on Stiles lips, before he stands up.  It makes Stiles hold his breath in awe. His lips are tingling madly and it feels..  it feels good.

 

Derek’s standing in front of him now, looking at the door as if the gates of hell are about to open.  Stiles reaches up and hooks his fingers in the back of his sleep pants, feeling the hot, smooth skin of Derek’s back.  He brushes his knuckles back and forth for a moment right over those dimples, letting the warmth seep into his skin, Derek looks at him over his shoulder, blue eyes sparking heatedly.

 

“That was my first kiss.” Stiles says in amazement.  “I wish I could tell Scott, he’d be so jealous.”

 

Derek huffs, but his lips quirk and Stiles is sure he says something under his breath along the lines of “The first of many firsts.”  And that does not make any sense to Stiles at all.

 

The elevator doors open and security is standing there, as is his Dad.  Laura’s there too.  Stiles pokes his head out from behind Derek, who’s frantically trying to push him back and behind him.  Like he’s trying to protect him.  Which is ridiculous because this is his Dad.

 

“Stiles.”  Says his Dad, he’s so not happy, Stiles can tell.

 

“Hi Dad.  This is my friend Derek.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles discovers more about how special his Mom is. Claudia's not doing very well and Stiles' Dad is struggling to cope. Derek and Laura leave Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been receiving the most kind and awesome comments - thank you to everyone. The mere fact anyone is actually reading this is a miracle, that I'm getting kudos and comments as well just puts the cherry on top.
> 
> I have been doing a little research and they have recently been making great strides in the scientific community in identifying a wolf and matching their specific howls, I have taken liberties in extending that to include species and sex of the wolves as well.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed - lone wolf.. yada yada..

 

To Stiles’ great relief his Mom is alright, she smiles and winks at him when his seriously angry Dad drags him back to her hospital room.  The lecture his Dad is laying into him about wandering off and stranger danger is just muffled background noise, as internally Stiles is still focused on Derek. 

 

He tried to maintain eye contact with Derek for as long as possible as he was led away, could almost sense Derek’s anxiety for him.  When he hears his voice in his head it almost comes as a surprise, he wasn’t sure if the connection between the two of them would still continue to work, in fact he’d forgotten about it after not being able to use it at the Hale house. 

 

 _‘Stiles..  I..  it hurts to leave you.  I want you to know that this isn’t easy for me.  I’ll miss you.’_   The voice in his head is so sad that Stiles can feel that horrible prickling sensation in his eyes that means tears aren’t too far behind.  He swallows hard trying to drag them back from the brink.

 

 _‘Derek.’_   That’s all he can choke out, his mind is jumbled and he can scarcely put together words verbally or in thought.  It seems to be enough, when the response he gets back is a pain-filled whine.  It’s almost an unspoken agreement that they don’t send any more thoughts through their mental bond, it’s just too painful. 

 

The next day Stiles can physically feel it when Derek leaves the hospital.  It’s almost like the atmosphere changes.  It’s heavier, as though the air is weighing him down and the light loses its brightness, becomes tinged with darkness and more shadows are cast than should really be there.

 

When his Dad mentions to his Mom that Derek and Laura Hale have moved across the country to New York, Stiles finally understands that saying about 'feeling your stomach drop'.  His plummets so far and fast he feels sick.  The only reason he doesn’t start believing it’s all been some freaky dream is his Mom.

 

Stiles doesn’t like keeping secrets from his Dad, but this is something special..  something just between him and his Mom.  Over the next few days, his Dad has practically set up camp with Stiles in his Mom’s room making it nearly impossible to speak to her and ask all the questions he wants to.  It frightens Stiles the intensity with which his Dad is making every effort not to leave his Mom’s side. 

 

The few brief times he’s been out of the room they’ve talked if she’s been awake.  The drugs they’ve been giving her have been stronger, she’s been sleeping more. Even conscious his Mom seems to..  drift away from him sometimes.

 

When she’s fully with him, the little snippets of information that he’s slowly piecing together and the picture they are giving him is nothing what he would’ve expected in a million years.

 

“Your Dad doesn’t know this, but Talia Hale and I were friends a long time ago.. before I came to Beacon Hills, even before I met your father.  I’d actually come here because I was going to work with Talia and her family..  I was a representative of an organisation that would send people to groups across the country as advisers, helpers, even healers or combinations of all three.”

 

“Groups..  you mean wolf packs?”  His Mom smooths out what she calls his ‘thinking’ furrow that appears on his forehead with her thumb, as he concentrates on what she’s saying.  Holy Moses.  There’s more than one pack.  He's never going to look at the world the same way again.  If there's werewolves, what the heck else might be out there too?

 

“Yes, I mean wolf packs.  I was an Emissary, but it’s a bit like being a priest, if I wanted to stay one I couldn’t marry your father and by then it was too late, I loved him too much.”  She smiles.  “It was the best decision I ever made.”  She holds out her hand to Stiles’ Dad who’s walked back into the room and caught the last few words.

 

“I was just telling Stiles how lucky I was to come here to Beacon Hills.  I never expected to walk into that coffee shop that day and walk out with a young Deputy Sheriff’s phone number and a favourite shirt that I could never get the stain out of.”  Her gaunt cheeks, barely round out as there’s so little flesh, as she gives a broad smile.  Her cheekbones cut like knives, Stiles’ Dad ignores them and cups her pointy chin as he sits on the edge of her bed.

 

“We lucked out Stiles, that your Mom was able to forgive my clumsiness that day and still agree to go on a date with me.”  The kiss he plants on her forehead involves lots of lip smacking and noise.  She squeals, laughter in her eyes and then they’re drooping and she’s asleep between one breath and the next.  Her breathing shallow and slightly strained.

 

His Dad holds her hand just looking at her with this expression on his face that makes Stiles eyes burn and his nose run.

 

“I took one look as she walked into that coffee shop and I knew..  she was the one, son.  My heart ached just seeing her face.  Like it recognised her and up until that moment I never knew what I’d been missing out on.”  Stiles watches his Dad, watch his Mom, for hours that day.  Simply holding her hand.

 

Those words keep running through his brain on an endless loop.  It’s how he felt when he first saw Derek.  Did this mean he’s in love?  He misses Derek so bad it's a physical ache.  Why on earth would anyone want to be in love if it hurts this bad?

 

A couple of days later, his Dad’s talking urgently to Dr Tanner in the corridor like he doesn’t want Stiles or his Mom to hear what he’s saying.  He and his Mom watch the two men talk through the open door.

 

“Stiles promise me you’ll look after your Dad..  you know the little things..  make sure he doesn’t eat bacon breakfast, lunch and dinner.. he would if he could and his cholesterol’s still too high and.. don’t let him sit at the kitchen table with his case files until the wee hours of the morning.. midnight’s the limit when he’s on dayshift..  he keeps a bottle of Jack in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet in the study..  keep an eye on the level and you’ll know if a case is getting to him.. he’ll never admit it.”  Stiles puts his hand in hers and squeezes as they look at the man they both love lift his hands to his head and pull at his hair, as he speaks more and more heatedly with the doctor.

 

Mom’s explained to Stiles that when she sleeps, it feels like she leaves her body behind, can walk all around the hospital if she wants to and doesn’t get out of breath at all, doesn’t feel any pain. 

 

When she heard about Derek and his family she visited him in her ghost form.  Somehow she could see inside him, see him screaming out for help, he was aware of her but wouldn’t let her in. 

 

His Mom could see how he was tormenting himself with his family and hovering on the fringes was Kate waiting to pounce with her lethal brand of soul destroying vicious half-truths.  Kate was the dangerous one, Derek might’ve eventually come to terms with his family and their loss but the betrayal and distrust that Kate had forged in the young man was not so easily overcome.  When Stiles had been pulled into Derek’s head she had gone too, hitching a ride with Stiles’ spirit.

 

Stiles researched furiously and discovered many other cases of astral projection.  There’s a huge amount of material on the subject and it keeps him up late many nights searching for answers.  That it distracted him from dwelling on how much he missed Derek was just a side benefit.

 

As his Mom gets worse and worse, she sleeps more and more.  Stiles knows that if she is anywhere after leaving her body it will be with her family.  Stiles keeps reading the Harry Potter books to her, whether she’s awake or not.  He isn’t surprised that she always knows where they are up to.  He finishes the very last one on the day she dies.

 

Shutting the door to her room, Stiles and his Dad settle onto the hospital bed with her.  His Dad is big spoon to her little one holding her hand, their fingers entwined and they drape their arms over Stiles, who has his head buried against her chest, where he can feel her breath ruffle his short hair and hear her stumbling, stuttering heartbeat.

 

“I love you both so much..”  She tilts her head back to Stiles’ Dad and presses a soft kiss on his Dad’s lips that are wet from the tears that are streaming down his face, before tipping Stiles’ head up to gently kiss his forehead and weeping eyes.  “I am the luckiest woman for having you both love me.” 

 

She falls asleep and Stiles thinks he dozes off as well when he hears a whisper in his ear.

 

"Stiles."   He opens his eyes to see the hospital room is lit up with a bright glow that pulses and shimmers, he squints his eyes, it’s almost painful to look at.

 

“You have a spark inside you darling..  learn to use it wisely, you’ll need it.”  The voice is his Mom’s. 

 

Then the light disappears and the room is filled with late afternoon shadows and quiet.  Too quiet.  Stiles realises he can no longer hear his Mom’s heartbeat and great shaking sobs wrench out of his chest, but his eyes are strangely dry.  He feels his Dad’s big safe, strong hand cup the back of his head and stroke through his short hair.   

 

Hours later, Stiles and his Dad get home from the hospital, he freaks out when his Dad tells him to sleep in the following morning, there would be no hectic rushing to get going before the morning traffic peaks.  

 

It’s that simple knowledge that he wouldn’t have to get up early, like they had been doing for the past couple of months, so they could drive in to the hospital and visit her that trips him almost face first into a well of grief that is physically painful.  Stiles doesn’t want his Dad to see, he’s busy on the phone anyway calling a few people to give them the news so they can spread it out amongst the rest of their friends, so he goes and hides in his bedroom. 

 

Stiles cries non-stop until he doesn’t think there’s another drop of liquid in his entire body that he could wring out to produce one more tear. 

 

When his breathing settles and is no longer one hiccup chasing another, he thinks of Derek and wishes that he was there.   Hot, tear-streaked face pressed to the cool glass of his bedroom window and he looks up at the moon and wonders if it looks the same wherever Derek is.  He whispers to the night “Derek” in one long aching sigh and in return carried by breezes that crossed the country from coast to coast he hears “Stiles”. 

 

Strangely reassured Stiles let his throbbing puffy eyes close and he sleeps.

 

 

The day following her death, which was uneventful in the world news scheme of things, a little story from New York does the rounds, travelling across the net to all corners as strange and unusual tales often do, even to Beacon Hills.  No longer were New Yorkers fearful of alligators in the sewers, it now seemed that the big apple was host to of all things a pack of wolves.  The blood curdling howling was heard right across the city the previous night, with at least two distinct sets of howls which lasted a full hour.  Experts who listened to recordings of the phenomenon described them as belonging to the canis lupus or gray wolf family, one male the other female.  Strangely, the canine population of the city were silent, almost respectful by not joining in.  One witness described them as more grief stricken and mournful than like the typical ‘children of the night’ image depicted in many horror films.

 

 

Stiles clutches his Dad’s hand as they stand at the graveside.  Flowers from the mourners are gathered to one side near where the mound of earth is, supposedly, discreetly covered with a green cloth.  As if no one knows that all that dirt is going to eventually cover his Mom in the ground.  His chest stutters a sobbing breath. 

 

The flowers look pretty and isn’t that ironic, all these flowers for his Mom and she wasn’t around to enjoy them.  Somehow death pointed out the things that should be done when you’re alive.  Why hadn’t they showered her in flowers when she was here to see them? 

 

His Mom’s favourite flowers are not common and he can only see the one bunch of irises that he and his Dad had ordered.  Wait, hang on there was another smaller bunch of purple blue that he can see and he wonders who out of all these people here had known his Mom about as well as her family did.

 

He lets go of his Dad’s hand as though he was looking at all the flowers and cards, but really the only one he's interested in looking at is the irises.  When he reads the card, his chest feels tight and his eyes well with tears.  He pulls it out of the nest of flowers and slips it into his pocket, his Mom wouldn’t mind he was sure.

 

To Claudia, who gave my nightmares an ass kicking, helped return a brother to his sister and let me make a friend of her son.  I’ll always remember you, D. 

 

The second message on the card simply reads ‘Thank you, L.’

 

He looks across the open grave to where the large crowd of people are standing. 

 

He can see Scott and Mrs McCall, Scott’s red-eyed and openly weeping against his mother’s chest, Mrs McCall holding him tight as tears stream down her face.  The Sheriff’s looking stoic, but ruins the effect by pulling out a large white handkerchief and wiping his eyes and blowing his nose.  There were the rest of the Deputies from the Department standing behind him, they’d left a skeleton crew on at the time of the funeral so most of them could attend. Amongst them intermingled, were teachers from the elementary school that his Mom had worked at.  So many people.

 

And there right on the fringes, Stiles sees Derek in a dark blue dress shirt with a black tie, his eyes blazing blue as they focus on him so intently.  Grief wells from deep within his chest, it’s almost too much.  Derek starts to move as though he’s going to come to him, that nothing is going to stop him from being at Stiles’ side.  Laura grabs his arm and holds him back, whispering in his ear as he strains forward.  Derek nods slowly and the blue leaches out of his eyes.

 

 _“Stiles..  I’m here for you.”_   Just hearing that voice in his head makes him tremble and gives him strength at the same time.  All he can do is nod his head in acknowledgement and hope that Derek understands, Stiles for once in his life has no words.

 

His father’s hand lands heavily on his shoulder and he draws him into his embrace.  It’s over.  A lifetime had been honoured and celebrated in a little under two and a half hours.  How was that long enough?  Stiles just didn’t understand.  These people would leave here and go about their lives and this would be the end of it for most of them.  Claudia Stilinski’s life and death ends here, finito, done and dusted.

 

For Stiles and his Dad this was only just the beginning.

 

Later, that night he and his Dad had curled up together in the guest room.  Neither particularly wanted to sleep alone that night and Stiles knew his Dad just couldn’t face the thought of sleeping in his bedroom all alone, even though he’d done it when Mom was in the hospital.  Stiles knew it was different now, of course. 

 

His Dad’s snoring lightly, alcohol fumes seeping through his skin, out of his pores, and Stiles nose twitches.  It stinks, irritates and burns his nose, he doesn’t like it at all.

 

Sighing, he moves off the bed to go to his own room.  Leaving the light off he sweeps back the covers from his narrow single bed and gives a yelp when he feels strong arms wrap around him.  Hot breath on his ear when he hears the whisper.

 

“Ssshhh.  It’s me.”  Stiles relaxes.  Derek.

 

Derek gathers him into his arms, cradling him and Stiles lets his arms wrap tight around Derek’s waist.  His head pillowed on Derek’s chest he can hear the steady beat of his heart.

 

“I didn’t mean to frighten you.  I.. I just needed to see you.”  Derek pulls him in closer as if he thinks Stiles is going to try and get away.

 

“I saw you today, saw the flowers.  Thank you.  They were Mom’s favourite, did you know that?”

 

“Yes.”  He doesn’t explain how he knew, but that’s okay he’ll find out later, for the moment it’s just enough that he did.  Derek rests his cheek on top of Stiles head. 

 

“I could feel you hurting today Stiles.” 

 

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t say he’s sorry or that it’ll get better and that strangely enough does make Stiles feel better, because if anyone gets it, it’s Derek.  He and Laura buried their family a few days after Derek woke up in the hospital.

 

“My Dad wouldn’t let me go.”  He whispers against the cotton of Derek’s t-shirt.  His hot breath penetrates the fabric to the skin below and Derek simply hauls him in closer and his heart starts to beat a little faster. 

 

“Did you get my note?  He promised that he’d get it to you, before.”  Stiles pulls back to look at the older boy’s face half hidden in shadows.

 

“Yes I got it.”  He rests his forehead against Stiles’ looking into his eyes.  “It helped.  In fact it helped a lot.  I held it in my hand.. the whole time.”  He pulls back and brushes his lips in a fleeting kiss against Stiles’ forehead.

 

Derek, I wish I’d met your family, I know they were awesome because you are.  Stiles.

PS.  I read this somewhere and it made me think of you.  ‘How unhappy is he who cannot forgive himself.’  I don’t want you to be unhappy anymore.

 

Stiles snuggles deeper into Derek’s embrace, yawning widely, until Derek is nearly flat on his back and Stiles draped over him.  His ear pressed against Derek’s chest and he can hear the jackhammer beat of his heart. 

 

He lifts his head almost blindly, eyes struggling to stay open and presses a soft sweet kiss to Derek’s lips.  He hears a low whine in response.  Before he drops his head back down and sleeps.  It is the most restful sleep he’s had in nearly two years, since his Mom’s initial diagnosis. 

 

In the morning, Derek is gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's seven months later and on Stiles' birthday he receives an unexpected visitor. Stiles is growing up and his feelings for Derek are changing and it's a confusing time for a young boy still in the throes of grief. Derek as always tries to do the right thing, but his hormones are just as confused and demanding. The first anniversary of Claudia's passing arrives and when Stiles and his Dad visit her grave on the day they get a surprise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a fic I'm really enjoying, the struggle that Derek is going through to do the right thing when teen hormones and his inner wolf demands that he act is really interesting to write without it becoming wildly inappropriate.
> 
> I just hope it's not too squick-worthy due to such a young Stiles. I know at the start I said it wouldn't be till later years that they get more intimate but it might end up being a couple of years earlier, not too sure at this stage as I've yet to flesh out those years yet. 
> 
> It's going to be a couple of weeks before I can post again as I'm going overseas for a short holiday - think tropical beach, sunscreen and cocktails. I'm almost sorry to be going as I can't access my works for the duration, but still it might just recharge the batteries.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - as per usual.

_Stiles’ 11 th birthday.._

 

Stiles doesn’t see Derek for another seven months. 

 

Sometimes he’s positive it’s all been a terrible dream.  A freaky ass nightmare, where he met a boy who turned out to be a werewolf and his Mom could astral project herself while she slept.  Then she died and his Dad and he are adjusting really badly to life without her.  It really has the makings of a terrible B-grade teen horror film, Stiles should know because he’s an expert on them, if only it all weren’t actually true. 

 

The proof is in the empty place at the dining table when he and his Dad are able to share a meal, his Dad is working more shifts than ever, and the card from the flowers that Derek and Laura had left at his Mom’s funeral.  Stiles pulls it out every now and then, from his secret stash of treasured items, to reread the messages so he can believe in Derek again.  There are two individual sets of handwriting on the card, but only one set that he traces with his fingertips over and over again. 

 

Werewolves.  Who would ever believe it?  It’s so far removed from normal, logic dictates that he’s turning 11 and he’s quietly losing his mind, which is a first for him because when does he do anything quietly.  Only Stiles doesn’t want to be logical, he’s a kid surely he can be as irrational as any other kid his age.  Just this once.  

 

He feels like he’s been thrust into adulthood with all that’s happened to him and his family over the past couple of years.  There are times at school when he looks around him at the other kids and feels like he’s an alien amongst them because they have no knowledge and experience of the grief that haunts him.  He’s an outsider looking in.  Then there are other days when he so desperately needs to be part of normal it scares him. 

 

He’s so grateful to have Scott as his best friend, he seems to instinctively know what he’s feeling just by a look and is either simply there for him, their shoulders pressed tight together in quietness or they’re running from one end of the schoolyard to the other indulging in the silly, crazy, laughing games and raucous noise that all ten year old kids do.

 

The worst is that every day he thinks of Derek.

 

He’s constantly filled with wanting, bursting with it.  He just wants Derek here with him.  Wants to see him and look into those amazing eyes.  Wants to talk to him and hear the low timbre of his voice.  Wants to touch him and see if his skin is as scorching hot as he remembers. 

 

He’s recently started dreaming about Derek.  Some he recalls in vivid detail, Derek running to him in an endless hospital corridor wearing only blue cotton sleep pants and his muscles moving with such fluid grace that Stiles is mesmerized, his eyes drawn to the bulge at his groin that bunches and shifts from side to side with each running step.  Even in his dream he can feel himself blushing.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

 

Others are hazy and Derek is phantom-like and almost insubstantial, brushing against him and drifting away over and over until Stiles feels like his dream self is so sensitized that one more fleeting caress of body against body and he will go up in flames. 

 

When he wakes, sometimes during the night with his groin still contracting fiercely, or in the morning unaware he’s been dreaming, Stiles finds he’s covered in a sticky, sometimes warm substance.  Thankfully, he’s read up on the whole puberty thing when he’d gone off in a tangent while doing the circumcision research a while ago, so he knows about wet dreams otherwise he’d be freaking majorly. 

 

So he deals with it himself.  Wears briefs and boxers together to bed, most of the time it captures what his body produces without getting on the sheets and if it does, the laundry is one of his chores anyway.  Just the thought of having his Dad try and ‘talk’ to him about his developing body and sex and stuff gives him the cold shudders.

 

The morning of his 11th birthday Stiles wakes up early.  It’s just getting light outside, enough to see someone sitting on the edge of his bed which makes him jerk back in fear.

 

“Stiles..  it’s me..  Der.. ooof”  As soon as he starts to speak Stiles knows who it is, can’t believe it and he’s throwing himself at the other boy almost wanting to cry in relief that he’s here.  Doesn’t know he actually is until Derek whispers against his hair.

 

“Don’t cry baby boy.. don’t cry.”  That Derek’s voice sounds choked and thick with emotion is a balm to Stiles shattered emotions.  It’s not just him then, who feels the pain of their separation.

 

“Derek..  Derek”  He murmurs over and over again, driving his face hard into the older boy’s throat his lips brushing against the skin there as he repeats his name like a prayer.  Derek holds him tighter and trembles, his breath stuttering and gasping.

 

“Oh Stiles.. I’ve missed you so much.”  Stiles can feel Derek’s lips press kisses against his hair and just holds on tighter.

 

It takes a long while before they are calm enough that their hearts aren’t pounding furiously and their breathing settles into a more regular even pattern.

 

“Happy birthday Stiles.”  Stiles pulls back out of Derek’s arms in amazement. 

 

“How do you..”  He shakes his head.  Derek is a mystery and not just because of his werewolf side.  He seems to know things..  like his Mom’s favourite flowers and other stuff.. it’s not important how Stiles realises, it’s simply that he does.  It’s that he’s here right now.

 

Stiles smiles.  He’s so very, very happy.  He feels warm inside and safe here with Derek sitting on his bed, the fingers of one hand entwined with his.  Connected.

 

“We have to be quiet, my Dad’s home.”  Stiles stage whispers.

 

“It’s alright I can hear him.  I’ll know if he wakes up and moves.”  Derek whispers back just as dramatically and throws in a waggle of his eyebrows for good measure.

 

Stiles giggles.  Derek’s face is so beautiful as he smiles and silently laughs.  It’s hard for Stiles to believe that this is the same boy who not so long ago was trapped in his own deadly nightmare of fear, guilt and regret.

 

“I can’t stay very long.. only an hour or so.  Laura’s waiting for me in the rental car.”  Derek says before he starts to mutter under his breath, Stiles can only pick up a few words here and there.  “As if I would.. doesn’t trust.. carry.. away somewhere.. only you.. me.”

 

“Alphas.”  Derek snorts aloud, before continuing.  “I couldn’t miss your birthday.”  He says softer.

 

“I’m so glad you’re here this is the best present I could ever have.”  Stiles is blissful.  He doesn’t want it to end so soon.  “Do you have to go?  I could skip school..  we could..  uhm we could hang out together.. you know only if you want.” 

 

Stiles can’t quite look at Derek as he says this because his head is suddenly filled with images from the dreams he’s been having and..  shit.. shit.., middle school has given him an education in the language of the locker room, his dick is twitching and he can feel he’s blushing because the heat in his cheeks is scorching.  Derek’s chest is heaving and he’s sniffing the air as though something’s caught his attention and..  and can he smell Stiles dick?  Oh that is freaky and so not fair.

 

And Derek is growling..  oh hell that makes it ten times worse Derek’s growling a low heated rumble that makes Stiles tingle all over.  He can’t help himself and he reaches out and puts his hand to Derek’s chest and feels the vibration through the warm cotton of the older boy's shirt.  It pulses through his palm and fingertips shooting up his arm, making the fine hairs stand on end. 

 

Derek stands abruptly and whines, sounding pained, when Stiles hand is jarred off his chest and falls dragging down the length of his body and brushes against the front of his jeans.  He moves to the window, gripping the frame tight in hands that even in this dim light Stiles can see are white knuckled with tension.

 

“I have to go.”  Derek is talking so quietly that Stiles is just barely able to hear him.

 

“No please don’t.”  Stiles begs.  “Stay.. just a bit longer..  I’ll do anything.. please.”  Stiles doesn’t know why but somehow he’s just making it worse as Derek groans and bangs his forehead once, twice, three times into the frame he’s gripping so tightly that Stiles swears he can hear the wood creak.

 

Before he knows he’s even moved Stiles is standing beside Derek and wrapping his arms around the older boy, he’s pushing and nudging with his head and wriggling his body until he’s gone under his arm and feels its heavy weight rest upon his shoulders.  He reaches up with one hand and gently rubs at the mark on Derek’s forehead that is revealed by the dawn light.

 

“Don’t..  please don’t.  I can’t bear to see you hurt.”  He doesn’t know what it is that Derek sees in his face, but he seems to push aside whatever has been disturbing him.  Derek's shuddering breaths eventually ease into a more normal rhythm.

 

“I’m sorry Stiles.  It’s just.. just everything you know.  I miss you so much.  But, I’m glad I’m here for your birthday.”  He drags a very co-operative Stiles into another hug, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

 

“Hey, is it me or are you taller?”  Derek asks with a smile.  He’s still small for his age, but he did have a little growth spurt over the past year and he realises that the top of his head now reaches the bottom of Derek’s sternum. 

 

“Yeah.  If I keep going I’ll catch up with you.”

 

“We’ll see.”  Derek laughs.

 

“Now tell me how are the karate lessons?”  For the next hour Derek and Stiles talk about everything it seems to the younger boy.  About Stiles’ school and New York and Derek selecting his college courses.  Stiles can’t help but mention the other kids at school and Derek laughs softly as he talks about Scott and the mischief they get up to, his face hardens as Stiles also talks about Lydia and a couple of other girls he considers friends.  The older boy eventually looks at his watch and sighs.  Time’s up.

 

“Happy birthday Stiles.  I uhm got this, this is something for you.”  Derek hands him an envelope that he’s pulled out of the inside of his jacket.

 

“You didn’t have to.  Just you being here is enough for me.”  Stiles can’t stop smiling.  Derek cups his cheek and rubs his thumb gently along the strangely sensitive skin there.

 

“Go on open it.”  Derek fidgets restlessly, almost nervous, as he waits for Stiles to open the envelope.  Maybe more excited in the giving than Stiles is in the receiving.

 

Stiles can feel his jaw drop when he realises what is inside the plastic casing.  A 1967 Topps Tom Seaver rookie baseball card.  One of the Mets all time best players.

 

“How did.. oh my God.  Derek.. Thank you.. thank you.”  Stiles has scrambled across the bed to throw himself practically into Derek’s lap and in between each thank you he’s pressing sweet gentle kisses all along Derek’s cheeks and jawline. 

 

There’s a low whine coming from Derek’s throat and his jaw is like rock he’s got it clenched so hard and Stiles suddenly realises that while he’s wrapped himself around the older boy, Derek’s got his hands fisted tightly into the sheets of Stiles’ bed and he can hear the rasping tear of fabric.  Like razor sharp nails have ripped through. 

 

He pulls back slowly and as he starts to move away it’s like Derek’s suddenly galvanized into action and he hauls Stiles back to him by his sleep shirt and Stiles finds he’s got Derek’s face pressed to his neck and an awful lot of snuffling and chuffing is coming out of him.  More disturbingly his neck is being licked not just once but twice.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek says brokenly.  “God you smell so good.”  Before he even knows what’s happening, Stiles is bouncing back onto his bed where Derek’s half tossed him and he’s running to the window, half out of it before Stiles can even blink.

 

 _‘Derek..  don’t go.. don’t leave me.’_ He calls out in his mind, not even sure if it’ll work.

 

 _‘Stiles.. I have to, don’t want to.. want to stay so bad.. but I.. I don’t want to scare you, but I think I might hurt you.. and I can’t baby.. I just can’t.’_   Derek sounds half-crazed, his thoughts are darting and they’re not just words it’s emotion as well and it’s like a burn, scorching his heart and mind.

 

He staggers to the window and looks down the street to see Derek standing at the furthest corner looking back at him. 

 

 _‘Do you think anything can hurt me more than this?’_   His heart feels like it’s fracturing inside his chest.

_‘Oh Stiles.. don’t hate me please, please.’_

_‘That’s the problem.. I don’t.  Stay.’_

 

He almost thinks he’s made Derek change his mind when he sees him take a step back towards his house.  A generic white rental sedan swiftly pulls up in front of him and Derek lifts one hand in goodbye and Stiles doesn’t really see anything after that because the tears that have welled up blur his vision.  His hand still clutching the baseball card.

 

He doesn’t move for the longest time, until he hears his Dad start to move around in his room.  He places the card ever so carefully in his box of treasures and prepares to fake his way through the day with a display of birthday happiness for everyone elses’ benefit, knowing that he’s already experienced the greatest of highs and lows just because Derek was here.  He shakes his head almost in disbelief.

 

Derek was here.

 

_1 st Anniversary.._

Stiles and his Dad sit in the patrol car for the longest time, neither of them ready or willing to make the first move to step out of the vehicle. 

 

Stiles holds the bunch of irises in his sweaty hands, the paper wrapped around the stems has coloured his hands a mottled purple pink.  It’s sort of cool, like he’s a zombie or something, then thinks better of dwelling on that subject at this location.  Anyway, even though it’s only a small bunch, the local florists seem to have trouble locating any stock at the moment, he thinks his Mom will like them. 

 

“Dad..”  He’s hesitant, his Dad’s been fragile ever since Mom.. and this past week it’s been even worse and Stiles has been checking the Jack that Dad keeps in the bottom of the filing cabinet and he swears that the level is yo-yo-ing up and down to an alarming degree.  Like a fresh bottle keeps appearing every couple of days.

 

His Dad sits there lost in thought for such a long time that he almost thinks his Dad isn’t going to answer.  He makes Stiles jump when he jerks back abruptly and turns to him.

 

“Did you.. uhm say something?” Sometimes Stiles thinks that while his Dad is here physically, he mentally hasn’t been in Beacon Hills and with his son for the longest time.  Round about a year he thinks.  He sighs, it’s almost like he lost both parents that day.  Knows his Dad doesn’t mean for it to feel that way, but..  Stiles never realised that pain like this can linger each and every day.  Not getting better and not getting worse.  Its very consistency is almost unbearable.

 

“Nah.. it’s okay.  Just.. shall we go and see.. Mom.”  Stiles is hesitant, not sure if his Dad’s ready.  Hell, Stiles isn’t even sure if he is but… he needs to.  It’s not like they haven’t lots of times before, he can’t even pinpoint why the anniversary of his Mom’s death is such a pivotal day, it just is.  His Dad just nods his head.

 

Stiles walks beside his Dad, flowers in one hand, and slips his other one into his Dad’s big warm calloused paw.  He squeezes it tight.  When they get closer to her grave, his Dad stops for a moment and says a word that makes Stiles blink in shock, his Dad doesn't swear, before he rushes forward.  Stiles cranes his neck trying to see but it’s still too far away.  His Dad propels them so quickly though that Stiles is panting and breathing hard through his nose and mouth when he sees what got them there so quick.

 

His Mom’s grave is covered in a mound of purple and yellow flowers.  Irises.  Scattered around them are tiny candles, his Mom called them tealights and she would often burn them around the house, the scent of vanilla that rises from the tiny flickering flames reminds him of her so badly...  his chest is tight and a swamping feeling rushes over him like he's drowning and can’t breathe.

 

Anchored to the base of his Mom’s gravestone is a huge bunch of helium filled balloons, the brightly coloured balloons bob and sway with the breeze.  Tied below them are two envelopes.  One is marked “Tickles” and the other “My darling”. 

 

“Dad..”  Stiles says, his eyes locked onto the balloons.. can’t drag his eyes away from them.  His Dad looks closer and his eyes open wide, his hand flails out, reaching and finds Stiles shoulder and grips it tight. 

 

The balloons are from the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk.   They’d gone there on a little holiday when his Mom was in remission and they had thought that she had won.  It was the best day he can ever remember of them as a family.  Feeling like they’d dodged a bullet, that their lives were going to go back to normal, they’d laughed and smiled a lifetime’s worth in one day.

 

It's one long memory of Mom and Dad laughing and, what he now realises was flirting with each other, they were constantly holding hands and dragging Stiles into hugs and cuddles as they moved between the rides and sideshow alley.

 

His Mom had always said it was the best of everything they’d ever had.. best holiday, best time, best day, best corn dogs.  Little did they know only three months later the doctor’s surgery would call his Mom back in with some test results.

 

Dad turns in a circle and looks around the cemetery for any sign of recent activity.  His cop mode is switched into high gear, Stiles can tell.  His hand rests on the top of his gun.  Although Stiles doesn’t think his Dad’s allowed to shoot anyone for putting balloons on his Mom’s grave.

 

He starts to reach out and grab the envelope marked ‘Tickles’ and freezes when his Dad snaps out “Wait.”

 

His Dad examines every inch of his Mom’s grave.  The flowers, the candles, the balloons almost like he thinks they’re booby trapped.  After a long time, the tension eases and he looks at Stiles.

 

“Any idea, who?”

 

“Not a clue.”  Stiles is as baffled as his Dad.  “At least we know why there weren’t any flowers around.”  He points at the blanket of purple blooms that covers his Mom.  It’s really quite beautiful.  It’s so totally fitting for her and he wishes he'd thought of it.

 

His Dad reaches out and grabs the envelope marked ‘My darling’.  He slides his thumb along the flap and tears it open.  He pulls out a sheet of paper.

 

“It’s your Mom’s writing.”  His voice cracks.

 

Stiles grabs the other envelope and is desperately tearing it open.  His eyes sting and he clamps his jaw as he fights the tears because he knows if he starts he won’t be able to read it.

 

Dear Stiles,

Here we are a year later and I bet you didn’t know that I am always with you and Dad. 

You may not see me and you may not hear me, but I am always there, always loving you.

Your Dad has had a hard year hasn’t he sweetheart, just as you have. 

I want you to know it will get better and I want it to for both of you, so don’t feel guilty if there are days where you don’t think of me, days where you might forget what I look like or sound like or even days when you hate me for leaving.  Just know I didn't want to.

You are so special my darling sweet boy.  Know it, believe it as I do and as Derek does too.

All my love, Mom xx

 

Stiles is crying so hard that he can’t see.  He misses his Mom so bad.  He feels strong arms wrap around him and he’s drawn into a tight warm embrace and he can feel his Dad is shuddering and crying just as hard as he is.

 

“I’m sorry.. so sorry Stiles.. I love you.”  His Dad is murmuring into his hair.  “Your Mom is the wisest woman..”   They don’t talk about what was in their letters and don’t ask what was in each other’s.  They know it's private, something just between Claudia Stilinski and her son, and Claudia Stilinski and her husband.

 

Stiles rests his cheek against his Dad’s chest feeling his arms heavy and secure against his back.  Under his arm he can look across the cemetery and in the far distance he knows that’s where the Hale family are, he’d found their resting spot a while ago now on a previous visit to his Mom.  His eyes are blurry from crying but it looks like..  there’s a dark figure standing there.

 

 _‘Derek..’_   He calls out in his head.  Is it just him or did it seem that the shape went abruptly still and unmoving?

 

 _‘Thank you.’_   He calls again.  The figure turns towards him, the face is just a pale blob at this distance and from the blur of tears.

 

‘ _No..  thank you, Stiles.’_   He looks down at the markers and Stiles knows that Derek sees they are being cared for and that fresh flowers are regularly replaced.  It’s something of a habit that Stiles has gotten into when he comes and visits his Mom he checks on the Hale family as well. 

 

Keeps the weeds at bay, makes sure the stones are clean.  He can’t afford flowers from a florist so he often goes into the woodlands where the wild ones grow.  They are somehow more fitting, more fragile looking but inherently sturdier, able to adapt and survive in rugged conditions.  The Hale family will survive.

_‘I’m glad.. you’re here.'_  

 

Stiles wishes he could go to him, but his Dad needs him right now and that’s how it should be today.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Stiles' 12th birthday and he's nervously awaiting Derek's early morning visit, he's hurting and vulnerable after enduring some vicious bullying. Someone's hurt his mate, what will Derek do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Holiday is over - so soon I ask where did the time go - had a great time (sun, surf, cocktails and tattoos) and I'm ready to resume writing (have missed Derek & Stiles and missed you all).
> 
> Stiles' 12th birthday has turned out to be longer than I anticipated so I'm going to break it up into smaller chapters.
> 
> Please be aware that there maybe some triggers for those who have suffered bullying.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - 'cause it's just little ol' me.

_Stiles’ 12 th birthday.._

 

Stiles huddles under his bedcovers, they’re drawn right up over his head, he only let’s his nose and mouth poke out so he can breathe.  Thinks that breathing’s overrated when all he wants to do is stay buried under here and never ever come out again.

 

He looks at the clock.  Again.  5.30am.

 

It’s about the same time that Derek visited him on his birthday last year.  He can feel anxiety well within him.  Oh God.  Will he come or not? 

 

It’s a question that has him so divided that he feels like he’s separating into two Stiles through mitosis, cloning is his latest personal research project which includes cellular biology, and Clone 1 wants Derek here so badly that his legs shift and twitch restlessly under the covers, the other thinks please don’t come today not when Stiles is like this, vulnerable and hurting and..  is that his bedroom window sliding up.

 

The mattress dips on one side and even though it’s a double one now and Stiles is at the furthest point from the window he still rolls slightly towards the heavier, more muscular body that’s presently sitting on the edge of his bed.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek’s voice is deep and soft and Stiles can feel the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end.  He’s missed hearing his name said in that husky whisper.  He draws the covers tighter around him, safe in his cocoon.

 

“Stiles..  I know you’re awake.”  The weight of a hand rests on Stiles head, he can feel it’s warmth through the cotton duvet.  It’s comforting even though Derek’s palm presses against the bruising around his eyesocket.  He can’t help sucking in a quick pained breath which Derek misinterprets entirely.

 

“Do.. do you want me to go?”  There’s a tremor in his voice that saddens and thrills Stiles in equal measure. 

 

“Stiles..  I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.. last time.  It’s just.. you are..  I’m..  I can’t always control myself.. not around you.”  Stiles can’t answer, there’s a tumbling rolling sensation in his belly at what Derek’s just revealed and if he wasn’t hurting so much he’d be all over the older boy.  Derek shifts on the bed, starting to rise.

 

“I’ll go.. maybe next year.. if you’ve forgiven me..”  There’s no way Stiles can let him leave, no way that he can’t see him regardless of how fragile and insecure he’s feeling.  He’s missed Derek so much, never more than over the past couple of days in particular.  Stiles moves as quick as he’s able and reaches out grasping Derek’s forearm.   

 

“No.. don’t go please.”  Stiles manages to gasp out.  The covers shift, lifting up and heated air escapes into the night cool bedroom, he groans in pain as the cast on his arm tangles in the sheets.

 

Derek stiffens and inhales, Stiles can feel the tension through his fingertips where they rest on Derek’s arm.  The older boy draws in a deep breath and he’s growling, a low rumbling that is equal parts anger and dismay.

 

“Stiles.. I can smell your pain.. and blood..  antiseptic.. you..you smell like a hospital.  What the hell?”

 

Derek moves faster than Stiles has ever seen before and grabs the covers and tugs them gently from his suddenly weak grip, before wrapping his arms carefully around Stiles.  Even though Derek’s touch is light, Stiles feels his bruised ribs flare in agony and he can’t help the pitiful whimper that leaves his mouth.  In the dim light Stiles can see Derek’s eyes glow blue and his nostrils flare with each deep breath he drags in wildly.

 

“Stiles my God..  what happened to you?”  Derek reaches across to the bedside table and switches on the lamp.  The golden glow falls across the bed and Stiles averts his face, which puts him in a very awkward position with his body twisted across the mattress and Derek’s arms wrapped around Stiles’ chest. 

 

Stiles can’t meet Derek’s eyes.  It’s a confused mix of shame, relief that the other boy is here now and anger that he wasn’t there when he needed him.  All washed over with guilt because he knows he’s being unreasonable, that Derek didn’t know what was happening to him..  but damn it why didn’t he know?   He knows everything else.

 

“Just an accident.. a stupid accident.”  He mumbles.  Derek’s big hand cups Stiles jaw, rubbing delicately the smooth skin there as he gently but inexorably guides his face around into Derek’s view.   Derek sucks in an audible breath as he sees the swollen bruised eyesocket.  

 

Stiles senses a change in Derek, can literally feel him vibrating and he’s growling long and low and not in the good way that sends Stiles’ temperature soaring.  It’s scary and Stiles is relieved that Derek’s anger isn’t directed at him.

 

“Who did this?”  Derek leans in close and starts to draw in deep breaths and drags his nose up Stiles’ throat as though he can scent the perpetrators of this outrage. Maybe he can.

 

“Who dared to lay their hands on you?”  Derek’s face has fully shifted into his wolf mode.  His brow is heavy over the glowing blue eyes, his nose is flatter, broader and he has a mouthful of gleaming white teeth, the fangs razor sharp.

 

“No, Derek you don’t understand I.. it’s me I’m clumsy.  I had a real bad fall and..”  Why he feels the need to protect the werewolf he doesn’t really understand himself, just instinctively knows that Derek will kill for him.  Knows it deep in his bones, this thing between them..  whatever it maybe, means that the older boy will do things for him that will leave a mark on him, on his very soul and with all that Derek’s been through Stiles can’t let that happen.  Won’t let that happen because of him.

 

“Stop it.  Don’t lie to me Stiles.  Not you..  not like her..  Don’t ever lie to me.”  Derek’s voice is deep and guttural, filled with anger and Stiles cringes.  The anger furrows in Derek’s forehead unravel as Stiles tries to pull away, trying to hunch over and hide his vulnerable belly.

 

“No..  oh no, baby don’t be afraid of me.  Please I couldn’t bear it.”  Derek oh so gently tightens his arms around Stiles and guides his head to tuck neatly under his chin where he can dip his head and press soft, light kisses on his brow and hair.   He gathers the boy up effortlessly in his arms, tucking Stiles’ arm with the cast against Stiles’ chest, before sitting back down on the bed, his back against the headboard.  Stiles is cradled within the safety of Derek’s arms and it’s the first time he’s felt so safe in a long time.

 

It’s all too much for Stiles and the release valve of his emotions shatters and tears well in his eyes and slowly start to trickle down his cheeks.  He presses his face into the warm cotton t-shirt that Derek’s wearing and breathes in pure Derek trying to suck his scent into his lungs and keep it there forever. 

 

Little choked sobs escape him and he’s so dismayed that Derek will think he’s a big baby, it makes him cry all the harder.  He lifts his arms and tucks his head into the crook of his elbows, his forearms draped over the top of his head the cast weighing heavy, cupping the back of his own skull.

 

Derek lowers his voice to a humming murmur and talks to him about the Mets and New York.  How Laura’s riding him hard with studying for the SAT’s, how much Stiles’ has grown and how much Derek’s missed him.  It’s soothing and Stiles can feel his body relax, all the muscles uncoiling, he’d only been aware of the tension that had been so long a part of him when he feels it dissipate.  The steady rhythm of Derek’s breathing is better than any sleeping pill. 

 

Stiles can feel his eyelids fluttering and he struggles to keep his eyes open.  Can’t go to sleep.  Not while Derek’s there, with only the short amount of time they usually have together.. he just can’t..  He stifles a jaw-cracking yawn and feels his body relax even more.  Derek’s stopped talking now, he’s just humming and crooning soothing sounds, lips pressed against his temple and it’s the last thing Stiles remembers.

 

Full daylight in his bedroom wakes Stiles up later and it’s not Derek who’s sitting on his bed looking down at him, it’s his Dad.  The concern on his face is almost painful for Stiles to witness.  Since the cemetery when they found the letters from his Mom, things have improved dramatically between them, his Dad has been trying to be more of a Dad than someone who simply shares a house and the same last name with him.   They’ve become closer than Stiles had ever realised they could.

 

“Hey.”  He smiles down at him.  “How are you feeling today?”

 

Stiles’ shifts under the covers, he feels..  he feels surprisingly really good.  He doesn’t seem to ache as much as he has over the past couple of days and nights.  He must be starting to heal.

 

“I’m good Dad.”  His Dad gives him a slightly sceptical look.  “No really, I feel so much better.  Maybe all those pills are starting to kick in.” 

 

He smiles in relief at his son.  The lines of strain and tension easing slightly around his eyes.

 

“It’s been three days son, much as I don’t want to they need me at work.”  He reaches out and gently cups Stiles’ face, his thumb probing delicately at the split in his lip.  “But, if you need me I’ll stay.. I can ring Bob and he can cover..”

 

Stiles shakes his head.

 

“No.  Dad..  Sheriff.. you’ve not long been made the head honcho..  it won’t look too good if the newly appointed Sheriff keeps taking time off to look after his kid.”  He stretches his lips and hopes his Dad takes it to be a smile.  “Especially one who’s been accused of assault.”

 

His Dad draws him into a gentle embrace.  “That boy’s lucky to be alive.. if I wasn’t the Sheriff..”  He huffs out a long drawn out sigh which ruffles through Stiles’ short hair.

 

“Yeah.. you’d be going to prison.”  Stiles pulls back to look at his Dad.  “I know it’s his word against mine but..  you believe me don’t you Dad?”

 

“Stiles I never doubted you for a second.  No matter what this kid says, no matter what people believe..  we know the truth.  I just wish to God you never had to go through it.  Wish you’d told me earlier..  before this..”  His Dad waves a hand at him and all his injuries and Stiles deflates like a balloon with a slow puncture.  The intensity of his relief that his Dad believes him makes him go weak.  His Dad stands up next to the bed.

 

“However, there are going to be some new rules about going to the woods from now on.  You won’t be.  Okay.  We clear?”  Stiles opens his mouth to protest and snaps it shut when he sees the look in his Dad’s eyes and simply nods.  Yes, they’re clear.

 

Bending down his Dad gives him a quick kiss on the forehead.

 

“Happy birthday son.  Presents tonight with a special birthday dinner.  Pizza.”  He grimaces at the look on Stiles’ face.  “It’s a special occasion, right?”

 

Stiles nods, okay he concedes special occasions his Dad can cut loose a bit with the diet.

 

“I’ll drop by at lunchtime okay.” 

 

“Yeah I’ll see you then..”  Sees the look on his Dad’s face, knows he’s going to start a spiel on contacting him if he needs him yada yada… “Yes I’ve got your number in my phone and I’ll call you straight away if I need you or if it starts to hurt too bad.”  His Dad looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. 

 

“Come on Dad.. I’m 12 now.  I’ll be fine.”

 

Releasing a long sigh, his Dad kisses him again like he’s forgotten that he’s already given him one.

 

“Yeah.  Okay.  See you later.”  He calls over his shoulder as he leaves Stiles’ bedroom.

 

Stiles snuggles back down under the covers, which is when his bladder decides to let him know that it urgently needs relief.  Struggling out from underneath, his arm seriously weighed down with the cast, he stumbles to the bathroom.  After taking care of business he looks at his face in the mirror as he washes his hands, well one hand and the fingers more or less on the one with the cast.

 

The bruising around his eye has come up a treat if it had happened any other way he’d be at school showing it off with every ounce of pride.  It’s black, purple and blue with yellow highlights, reminds him in a way of his Mom’s irises.  It’s stark against the slightly too pale skin, but he thinks even so he looks better than what he did.  He really does feel better he wasn’t just saying it to get his Dad out of his hair.

 

The split on his lip is red and puffy.  Makes his lips look lush and bee-stung, yeah he’d read that in some novel and it kinda fits, although he’d rather it wasn’t so painful.  Brushing his teeth makes it sting like a son-of-a-bitch.

 

He freezes when he goes back into his bedroom.  Standing by his desk is Derek, waiting for him.  Dressed in jeans, t-shirt and black leather jacket, he looks so good all Stiles can do is stare.  Derek’s not so much a boy anymore, rather a young man.  So good looking in the natural light that Stiles’ belly does backflips as he traces the high cheekbones and strong jaw with his eyes. 

 

Taller and broader across the shoulders than Stiles remembers, he knows he’s grown himself over the past year but Derek’s outpacing him and it makes him feel small and he’s.. he’s just so average.. how can he be the mate of someone so beautiful?

 

Stiles can feel his heart threaten to burst from his chest, it’s beating so hard.  He can feel his whole body tremble.  He’d almost convinced himself that he’d dreamt Derek’s early morning visit, so to see him standing in his bedroom in broad daylight makes him feel giddy and overwhelmed.  He sways.

 

Derek scoops him up and cradles him in his arms.  Stiles places his uninjured hand against the side of the older boy’s face, awed that he permits him to touch him so intimately.

 

“Derek..  I thought it was a dream.”  Derek lowers his head resting his forehead against Stiles’.

 

“No.. no dream.”  He lowers him gently to the bed on his side, whips off his leather jacket throwing it across the desk chair, and lays down next to him, face to face.  Stiles blinks rapidly.  How can it be that Derek is here with him on his bed right now?  He sighs as Derek looks intently into his eyes and he knows that Derek wants answers.  There is no avoiding them.

 

“What happened?”  Derek’s voice is low and coaxing, the very tone soothing to Stiles’ senses, it drains him of any thought of attempting to lie to Derek in any way, even if it is only to protect him from himself.

 

“Will you promise not to hurt them?”

 

“Them?”  Whipcrack sharp he bites out the words, his beautiful myriad-coloured eyes bleeding to electric blue.

 

“Please.” 

 

“Stiles..  I can’t promise that.. not here.. not now when I can scent your hurt..  see your bruises and injuries.  All I can promise is to listen to the whole story and decide.”  The grim lines on his face are testament to how much he is conceding to by just doing that and not immediately going out there and killing whoever hurt his mate.  Tearing them to pieces.

 

Stiles closes his eyes wondering how on earth he can even begin to explain.  Start at the beginning, even if it doesn’t seem to fit, doesn’t seem relevant.  That’s what his Dad says.  Stiles knows he uses those words when speaking to victims or witnesses when he’s on the job.

 

“I joined the lacrosse team.”   Derek’s eyebrows quirk as though that was the last thing he expected Stiles to say.

 

“Actually, Scott and I both joined the lacrosse team.”  Stiles remembers how excited they both were at the start of the season.  “We’re not very good.. not yet.. but..”  He shrugs that was half the fun of learning something new with his best friend.

 

“The Captain of our middle school Varsity team is Adam Greenberg.  He’s a year older than us.. he’s a great guy everyone will tell you that..”  Stiles tries to focus somewhere on Derek’s chin so he doesn’t have to look into those penetrating blue eyes, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to keep going if he does.

 

“Scott and I wanted to be just like him.  He’s a good leader on the field and a friend to everyone on and off it, all the Varsity and Junior Varsity players look up to him.  The teachers like him and his girlfriend, Lacey, is one of the cutest girls in the school.”  Stiles sighs and draws in a deep breath and finds the nerve to look the werewolf in the eye.

 

“And.. he likes to hurt me.”  Stiles bites his lower lip to stop it trembling.  


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Stiles' 12th birthday and he's doing one of the hardest things he's ever had to, telling Derek about the abuse he's suffered at the hands of Greenberg. Derek's feeling guilty and angry and tearing Greenberg apart limb from limb sounds like a real good idea. Can Stiles' prevent Derek from staining his soul with a deliberate killing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said Stiles' 12th birthday is a big couple of chapters. 
> 
> Please make note I'm upping the ante a little bit on the physicality between Derek and Stiles, more kissing and some masturbation, so if this is too squicky for you between a pre-teen and an older teen please don't read.
> 
> Thanks for all the positive comments and great feedback. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed - by moi

“I don’t even know how it started or..  why.  I’ve been called names before.. but never.. never this.”  There is no doubt in Stiles’ mind that Greenberg set out to destroy him, to grind him down into dust.

 

“Tell me about the first time.”  Derek asks, his eyes still glow but his voice is a softer rumble, chocolate poured over gravel, and Stiles knows he’s trying to temper his reaction so he doesn’t frighten him.  Not that Stiles thinks he could ever really be frightened of Derek, frightened for him maybe but never of him.

 

Stiles can feel his face screw up tight as he thinks back, it was so slow and insidious, creeping up on him that he can’t even really pinpoint when he actually noticed. 

 

“That’s just it.. it’s not something I can even say here is when it started.. it was just little things.  Flicks to the top of my ears ‘Hey Stilinski practice harder next time right’.. like it was a joke..”  His mouth strains into the smile he’d been forced to adopt for such a long time that he can fake it instantly now.

 

“Ha ha, yeah.. so funny, NOT.. made to feel that I’d be overreacting if I said anything or I’d be marked as a pussy if I said it hurt.. then the pushing and bumping in the showers started..”  Stiles remembers the first time he was pushed over in the showers.  There had been an awful prickling sensation at the back of his neck while he stood under the hot spray as the steam swirled around him that he was being watched.  It had unnerved him so much he’d gone to leave and found the tiled floor rushing up to meet him.

 

“‘Tut tut Stilinski, so clumsy, what if I wasn’t here to catch you?’ but he’d grab my arm and..”  Stiles pushes the sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm to show Derek the pattern of finger shaped bruises that marked the length of his upper arm.  There were so many that some had blurred into each other forming larger ones, the colours were many and varied ranging from black and violent red to blue and sickly yellow depending on the degree of healing.

 

“I started to get a reputation as being clumsy and accident prone, but I wasn’t.. I wasn’t..”  He can hear how high and reedy his voice sounds.  It had been so painful to know that people.. friends, family, teachers hadn’t been able to see that there was something wrong, not with him but being committed against him.  Either they were particularly unobservant or he’d just been too good an actor. 

 

“If it wasn’t me being clumsy then the bruises were from Lacrosse practice.. ‘coz the Captain he liked to train hard ya know ‘and Stilinski needs all the help he can get’...”   He snorts loudly, but can’t quash the feeling of hurt that everyone thought it was perfectly normal that Stiles is such a loser when it came to sports.  Greenberg had excelled in destroying any confidence that he had in himself.

 

“You hear it enough.. you start to believe it.”  

 

Derek’s nostrils flare and his breathing is harsher and Stiles instinctively reaches out to comfort him.  His hand pressing against the cotton-covered broad chest.  Derek’s warm, it’s something Stiles has noticed about him, he’s never cold, always hot in comparison to himself.  He thinks it must be a werewolf thing that they function hotter than humans.  Wants to burrow into that warmth and draw it into himself and take away the cold that has been in his very bones for so long now, he shifts closer.

 

Derek grabs his uninjured hand and lifts it to his lips and Stiles sucks in a shaky breath as he watches the other boy press kisses all over his fingers and his beautiful, beautiful mouth latch onto his palm and keep it there gently nipping and licking in comfort.  His eyes have shimmered from the electric blue of his wolf’s emotions to his normal colour of indescribable green and the pained emotion that fills them has tears slowly welling and rolling down Stiles face to drip onto the cotton sheets that lie beneath him.  For some reason Derek’s pain hurts him worse than any physical one that Greenberg ever managed to inflict upon him.

 

Derek’s other hand reaches out and gently.. oh so gently rests on Stiles’ upper arm where those bruises mark the pale skin.  As he watches he sees black thread like veins appear up the length of Derek’s hand and arm, he can feel a gentle drawing sensation as though something’s being pulled out of him and into Derek.  As the ever present ache in his arm slowly eases he realises what’s happening and struggles to knock Derek’s hand off him.

 

“Derek.. don’t..  I don’t want you to hurt.”  His lower lip trembles.  Derek lifts his mouth off Stiles’ hand.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek huffs out a breath and Stiles can feel the gentle puff of air against his face and realises he can smell the sweet scent of apples.  He opens his mouth to draw in Derek’s breath into himself, to capture in some small part something of the young man lying beside him.  It’s comforting.  “I need to do this..  okay?”

 

Stiles looks into Derek’s face and what he sees there, the pain and guilt.. the need to be able to do something.. anything makes him relent and he slowly nods his head in acceptance and stops trying to shift Derek’s hand off him.

 

“You did this before.. didn’t you?  That’s why I..  that’s why I feel so much better today isn’t it?”  Derek simply nods his head.  “Thank you.”

 

“What happened next?”  He murmurs softly, as though concerned that he’s pressing Stiles too hard, but still needing to hear the answers.

 

“He arranged with the coach to give me extra ‘training’.”  Stiles grimaces as he remembers what the coach had said to him. 

 

“You know he said I was lucky that the Captain was good enough to take me under his wing..  he couldn’t understand when I said I didn’t want it..  called me ungrateful.. threatened to have me off the team..”

 

Stiles starts to shudder as he remembers those training sessions.  Derek pulls him closer, enfolding him into the safety of his arms, gentle kisses press into his forehead and the top of his hair.  Stiles burrows his nose into Derek’s warmth.

 

“Ssshhh.. it’s alright.. you don’t have to..”

 

“No I need to..”  A hiccup escapes him, the shudders making his diaphragm twist and jerk out of its normal rhythm.

 

“He had a couple of.. of I guess you’d call them minions.. henchmen.. Justin and Blake.  The three of them.. they would make me drink so much water and either make me run until I threw up.. st. stamina training they called it.. or.. or not let me go to the bathroom.”  Heat sweeps over his face and Stiles knows he’s probably a bright red right now as he knows Derek will understand the implications of the torture he’s describing.  Somehow it’s more embarrassing trying to tell Derek about it than it was actually living through it, it’s only the steady beat of Derek’s heart against his cheek that helps him go on.

 

“They’d make me train without my protective gear..  make me play in goal while they made shots.”  There had been times he actually thought they were going to kill him if the ball had made contact with his bare head.

 

“Stiles.. I have to ask.. why didn’t you tell someone?”  Derek’s voice is soft and gentle, not accusing, just needing to know.

 

“Scott.”  He mumbles.

 

“Scott?”

 

“He.. he said that if I told anyone that they wouldn’t believe me..  ‘coz everyone knew I was strange anyway with my ADHD or if I tried to get dropped from the team that Scott would take my place and get ‘special training’..  he said I couldn’t protect Scott all the time.”  Stiles lifts his head, eyes meeting Derek’s, needing him to know that he couldn’t risk it. 

 

“I couldn’t take the chance.. I..  Scott’s my best friend.  He’s got asthma and I.. I didn’t think he’d survive it.”  He snorts softly.  “Can you believe it he was jealous.. jealous that I was ‘so lucky’.”

 

Derek holds him tighter, as though he wants to absorb all of Stiles’ pain, the mental..  the physical.. the emotional.

 

“Three days ago..”  Stiles gulps and swallows hard as he remembers the pain and fear he’d felt. 

 

“Three days ago he caught me in the woods alone.”  Derek freezes, he’s gone so still and unmoving that Stiles is almost afraid that somehow he’s turned into a statue, like a curse or something.  His eyes are back to blue, but they are a cold blaze.  Hard and remote, the colour captured straight out of the heart of a glacier.

 

“What did he do?”  Derek’s voice is like nothing he’s ever heard before in his entire life.  There is death in the deep, dark tone and Stiles knows that right now Greenberg’s life is in the balance, tip too far one way and his tormentor will draw his very last breath today.

 

“I.. I go there to get the wildflowers for.. for..”  Stiles can feel Derek stiffen even further as realisation strikes him as to what Stiles had been doing in the woods. 

 

“I’d picked a heap and was heading for the cemetery.. I didn’t know he was following me until.. ”  His stomach clenches hard, he can still feel the weight of Greenberg’s hand on the back of his neck.  The other boy was big for his age just as Stiles was small for his, the inequality of it, that only a year was between them chronologically yet the David and Goliath scenario had been all too real in that quiet, isolated part of the wood.

 

“At first I thought he was just going to push me around..  but he.. it felt different.. he was touching me differently..  he.. he tried to kiss me, but I wouldn’t let him.”  Derek’s growling is so low at first Stiles doesn’t hear it, it’s below the range of human ears, it’s only because he can feel the vibration coming through the broad chest in front of him that he catches it. 

 

“Why would he want to kiss me?  He’s got the cutest, sweetest girlfriend..”  Stiles shakes his head in bewilderment.  Derek gives him a frown.

 

“Stiles.. you don’t see it do you?” 

 

“See what?”  Now it’s Stiles’ turn to frown, what on earth is Derek going on about?

 

“You’re so beautiful.”  Derek’s voice is more wolf growl than human, but Stiles can hear the apparent sincerity in it.  He can feel his face flush with heat as he shakes his head, no.  Disbelieving.  Derek’s obviously blind or delusional.

 

“Why would you say that?”  Hurt that Derek thinks he has to lie to him, he closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at the man in front of him who is everything that Stiles considers to be truly beautiful.  There is no comparison, Stiles has no illusions about his appearance.  Derek’s outer beauty reflects his inner wolf, powerful, sleek and strong, Stiles’ outer self reflects his inner meerkat, slender, hyper alert and pointy faced.

 

“Open your eyes Stiles.”  Derek uses his thumb and finger to tilt Stiles’ chin up.  Reluctantly he opens them and gasps aloud at what he sees.  Derek’s eyes are no longer wolf blue, they are light green pools, the pupils blown out as he examines each and every feature of Stiles face with an intensity that makes Stiles glad he’s lying down.

 

“From the very first moment I saw you.. saw your eyes, so golden.. like liquid honey.. I knew I could drown in them.  You are so beautiful.” 

 

Derek’s thumb strokes from Stiles’ chin to brush against the scattering of brown moles along his jaw and cheek.  “Long ago these were called beauty spots or marks.  I see them and I.. I just want to kiss each one.”  Stiles is mesmerised, he can only stare in fascination as Derek bites his lower lip as though it’s the only thing stopping him from doing exactly that.

 

Derek lets out a shuddering breath in an obvious effort to regain control.  “You fought him off then.” 

 

It takes Stiles a couple of moments to even think straight.  The boy before him has such power over him, has him in knots most of the time.  He shrugs his shoulders restlessly.

 

“He punched me in the face.. a couple of times and I knew.. I knew that if he didn’t care about the marks being visible… if he didn’t care then he didn’t expect me to be able to talk about them.. that’s when I started to fight back.”

 

The only time he’d been more frightened had been when Derek had been lying in that hospital bed with the Doctor pronouncing time of death.  If he closed his eyes he could see the isolated pocket between the tall trees where Greenberg had started to beat on him, the scent of wildflowers crushed underfoot had filled his nose so powerfully he could recall the scent vividly.  A place of wild beauty marred by violence.

 

“I was able to get the lacrosse stick off him.. not before he got in a few good shots at my ribs and my arm.”  He lifts the cast slightly.  “Not that I felt that it was broken until afterwards.. adrenalin I guess.”  Stiles sucks in a breath to feel his ribs expand and contract, the pain feeling good for once, a reminder that he was still here.  He was still alive.

 

“He still kept coming though and I.. I guess he never knew that I did Karate.”  Stiles smiles at Derek.  “Told you that my instructor was good.  He taught me to use whatever weapons I had to hand if my life was at risk.  Poor Greenberg..”  He smirks.  “Didn’t know that he was going to get my skateboard in his ear.”

 

“Where is he now?”  Derek still looks like he’s about to pronounce a guilty verdict and that the sentence is death.

 

“In the hospital.”  Stiles lips twitch uncontrollably.  “If you think I look bad you should see the other guy..  I’ve always wanted to say that.”  Derek snorts, his pale tense face shifts slightly, the grim expression lightens almost imperceptibly, but Stiles can see it.  Feels a wave of relief because somehow he knows that Greenberg will live to see another day and more importantly Derek won’t be tainted by him.

 

“I heard your Dad before.  This Greenberg is going to get away with it.”  Anger still rolls through his words.

 

“It’s his word against mine and because he’s in a worse state than me.. it looks bad.”  Stiles bites his lip.  “My Dad’s not even been Sheriff for a full year yet and this.. this could be big trouble for him.”

 

“Your Dad seems like he’s got things under control.” 

 

“He’s been working so hard.. I can’t ruin it for him.  Not now.  He loves the job so much.”  He sucks in a stuttering breath.

 

“It.. it was bad before, but since Mom’s.. Mom’s anniversary he’s been better.  In fact more than better.. we’re closer now, more than I’d ever expected.”  Stiles puts everything he can into the expression on his face.  “Thank you.. thank you for what you did that day.”

 

“Stiles.. that was the very least I could do for your Mom.   That night.. after you woke me up, when you and your Dad left, I saw your Mom and we talked.”  From the sound of it to Stiles they obviously had talked for a long time. 

 

“She asked me to do a couple of things for her and for you.”  Derek’s hand still cups Stiles’ chin and cheek, his thumb rubs lightly against the delicate skin and Stiles knows that he’s caressing the brown moles that dot along his jawline.

 

“The main one..”  He sighs heavily.  “I’ve done a really poor job of looking after you.”  There is such guilt in his beautiful eyes that Stiles’ heart wrenches in his very chest at the expression.  He shakes his head no.. no.. no.

 

“Don’t say that..  don’t ever say that.”  He goes to hug him and groans aloud when his ribs give him a sharp swift reminder that they have recently had a lacrosse stick wrapped around them.. hard. 

 

Derek pulls back and lifts up to lean on one elbow looking down at him.  His other hand hovers above Stiles’ hip, fingers plucking almost helplessly at the hem of his t-shirt.

 

“May I?”  Derek asks quietly.  Stiles stomach flips over and over and he can only nod his head, yes, as he holds his breath.  The cotton fabric slowly slides up his waist and past his ribs until it’s bunched underneath his armpits.  His slender torso from his nipples to just below his belly button is exposed.  He wonders if Derek can see his heart rattling his sternum and ribcage from where it’s pounding so hard.

 

A whistle of air comes through clenched teeth as Derek examines each and every bruise along his side.  Gentle fingers lightly trace over the black, blue and violet marks before Derek lowers his head and the feel of his hot breath against his skin has Stiles shifting restlessly before gasping aloud as he feels Derek’s lips brush against him. 

 

His fingers are resting against the injured ribs and Stiles feels like he’s almost mindless and all he can do is watch as the black veins appear in Derek’s hand and up his arm.  They throb and pulse as he watches and the drawing sensation as the pain disappears is a welcome relief and he doesn’t protest this time, Derek’s eyes plead with him to let him do this for him.

 

Trembling, Stiles can feel moisture against his skin as Derek presses open mouthed kisses against his flesh.  With the lessening of his pain, it allows all the pleasurable sensations to gather and flood through his system pooling at his groin.  He can feel his cock start to throb, knows that Derek is aware of it as his eyes blaze up at him with blue fire.

 

“Does it hurt anywhere else?”  Derek’s voice is a low rasp that grates along all of Stiles’ nerve endings sending tingles through every part of him.

 

He knows his eyes must be huge because he can feel the stretch around his bruised eye socket.  It makes him wince.  Lifting a trembling hand to hover over the swollen eye, Stiles closes both of his as he sees Derek’s beautiful face coming closer and closer to his.  Shivers, as he feels the lightest most delicate of kisses against his eyelid, gentle fingers rest lightly on the outer corner of his eye and he feels the pain being pulled out of him. 

 

It’s so loving and good and gentle in contrast to all the violence and pain that he’s been experiencing Stiles can feel liquid spill out of his closed eyes, a broken sound escapes him as he feels those gentle, sensuous lips sip and drink down his tears.  Derek pulls back, not too far his face hovering above him, he can feel it in his skin even if he can’t see it, his breath with its apple scent puffs against his lips.  He tries to open his eyes, they feel weighed down and they flutter madly until he has the strength to open them completely.

 

Derek’s looking down at him and there’s something in his face, in his eyes, that makes Stiles heart stumble and stutter before it pounds even harder than it ever has before.  There’s an intensity in his expression and it feels like Stiles is burning alive.

 

“Anywhere else?”   Stiles wonders how on earth can Derek speak with his voice such a hoarse rasping whisper?  But, what does he know?  He can’t even say anything, his vocal chords are frozen with such longing, he swallows hard, before lifting his hand to his mouth.  Knows what he’s asking for, knows what he wants.  So does Derek by the rumbling groan he makes.

 

Stiles feels gentle fingers explore his sore lip.  The drawing sensation has him pulling back startled, it feels different here.  More sensitive.  Wide eyed he sees the remnants of black veins slowly disappear from Derek’s fingertips as he realises his lip doesn’t hurt anymore.   

 

Then Derek’s face is getting closer, his eyes deep pools of electric blue fire beckon him and Stiles’ realises it isn’t just Derek getting closer, it’s him.  Then his lips are pressing softly, sweetly against Derek’s.  Just resting against each other and feeling their breath mingle and he’s so relieved that he brushed his teeth just before and he can’t help but smile.  Derek can feel it and pulls back slightly to look at him, an expression on his face that Stiles almost doesn’t recognise until he suddenly does.  It’s uncertainty.

 

“Don’t stop.”  Whaddya know?  He can talk or is that rather mumble, whisper, breathe out the words.  Derek’s face is unmoving and Stiles panics thinking that he’s going to pull away from him now. 

 

“Please.”  It comes out more of a desperate whine than Stiles anticipated, so to reinforce it he frantically crushes his mouth to Derek’s and murmurs ‘Please..please..please” against lips that feel frozen pressed tightly together until suddenly, unbelievably, they’re moving.

 

“God Stiles.. you don’t know.. what you do to me.. open your mouth baby..”  Derek’s groaning, hot breath pushing into Stiles’ mouth as he parts his lips, closing his eyes at all the new sensations sweeping over him.  When he feels the delicate push of Derek’s hot, wet tongue against his lips it’s all he can do not to scream his pleasure, his muffled moans and Derek’s heated growls are all that he can hear with his physical ears.  With his mind he can hear their combined inner voices.

 

_‘Please.. please.. please..’_

_‘My mate.. God Stiles.. you taste, so good.. need to.. want to..’_

_‘Derek Derek Derek Derek.’_

 

He tentatively brushes the tip of his tongue against Derek’s and he nearly explodes at the snaking coil of heat that feels like it’s about to burst low in his belly.  Derek tastes delicious, like green apples.  Fresh and sharp, it fills Stiles mouth. 

 

Derek’s groaning and keening wildly as their tongues flicker against each other, suddenly he’s above him on all fours, straddling his legs, hands buried in the covers either side of his head and Stiles realises Derek’s struggling with control when he hears his sheets start to rip.

 

Stiles can’t help but writhe and then he feels the lightest touch against his still bare chest, one lone fingertip tracing a delicate path on his skin, from his sternum towards his stomach where the muscles are fluttering wildly. 

 

_‘God.. yes taste me..  my beautiful mate..  Stiles.. your skin it’s so soft..’_

_‘DEREK.’_  He screams the other boy’s name in his mind, because that fingertip doesn’t even reach his belly button before it’s all too much for Stiles and he’s coming in his boxers.    Back arching, his balls tight and shudders rippling through him at the sheer gut wrenching pleasure of his come pumping out of the tingling tip of his cock. 

 

_‘Stiles baby.. did you just.. from a kiss.. Fuck that’s so hot.. I want to..’_

Stiles is adrift, his whole body weighed down with pleasure, he opens his mouth wider and Derek groans in appreciation, his tongue delving slightly deeper before he’s throwing himself face down to the side.  The bed is moving beneath Stiles and he realises that Derek is grinding hard into the mattress next to him.  Then abruptly he’s gone, moving so fast out of Stiles’ bedroom that he’s just a blur.  Stiles can only just see out of the slits that are his eyes, his eyelids feel like they weigh a tonne.

 

Derek’s gone to the bathroom, but it’s like he’s forgotten to close the door behind him because Stiles can still hear the wild, heated thoughts that are running through the older boy’s head.

 

_‘Fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. what the fuck am I doing..  it’s so hard..hurts... never been this hard before.. Christ I’m a monster.. he’s only a kid.. I should stay away.. just stay away before I hurt him..’_

_‘NO.’_   Stiles can’t help it, the denial bursts out of him letting Derek know he’s been eavesdropping on his thoughts. 

_‘Oh Stiles.. God if you only knew how much I..’_

_‘Please don’t stay away.. I’m begging you.. just don’t.’_   There’s a long silence and Stiles can’t hear anything but he’s feeling something.. feeling an overwhelming excitement, a pleasure in his words.. in the inherent submission in them, he knows the feeling belongs to Derek and not himself.

 

 _‘Derek?’_  

 

 _‘Stiles.. uhmf.. keep huh..huh.. keep talking to me baby..’_   Stiles can feel his eyes pop open wide and this time it doesn’t hurt because of where Derek’s drawn out the pain from his body.  Stiles has only recently discovered how much pleasure he can get from touching himself, that he does it while thinking about Derek is something he doesn’t dwell on too much otherwise he’d go crazy.

 

So now he realises exactly what Derek’s doing in the bathroom and a blazing wave of heat washes over him, maybe more intense even than when he came only minutes earlier.  It’s the knowledge that he seems to affect Derek as powerfully as the older boy does to him that gets him so worked up.

 

_‘Derek.. are you.. are you touching yourself?’_

_‘Uhmm.. yes..yes.. please Stiles..’_

_‘I wish I could.. I wish I could watch..’_

_‘Stiles!’_

A loud howl echoes from the bathroom down the hallway to where Stiles lies on his bed, his own come is cooling in his boxers but it’s not enough to deter the little pulses that quiver through his cock when he hears those sounds together with his ears and with his mind.  The smallest amount of come spurts sluggishly out of the head, but it’s such an overwhelming sensation like his balls are being wrung out to draw every drop from his body that he almost starts to cry at the intense pleasure.

 

Thinks maybe he blacks out for a couple of minutes, because when he opens his heavy eyes Derek’s back next to him with a warm washcloth from the bathroom.  He’s gently and carefully cleaning him up and replacing the wet, sticky boxers with a clean pair he finds in Stiles’ chest of drawers, before tucking him back under the covers.  Stiles is so tired now but he doesn’t want to miss anything of Derek being here with him.  He tries to stifle a yawn and can barely keep his eyes open.

 

“Stay with me.”  Stiles whispers, his hand reaching out to feel Derek.  He sighs in relief when Derek lies back down next to him and presses his nose against Stiles’, mouths close so they can breathe each other again. 

 

“Rest Stiles, I’m not going anywhere.”  Stiles can see through slitted lids that there is a burning red colour striping across Derek’s nose and cheekbones, his eyes look sleepy and satisfied.  He tucks that image away in his memory, knowing that it will be one he’ll frequently examine because he put that look on Derek’s face.  Derek Hale wants Stiles Stilinski. 

 

Oh yeah, he wants him bad.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Stiles' 12th birthday and Derek's had a busy afternoon, not only keeping Stiles company but doing a few errands when the Sheriff comes calling for lunch. Stiles lets slip his real feelings for the werewolf and they exchange birthday presents. Stiles introduces Derek to a comedy classic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have had some wonderful feedback about this fic. Thank you all so much - you give me the encouragement to keep going and I appreciate it. Much love to you all.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - too tired to think why.

Déjà vu.  When Stiles wakes up, his Dad’s sitting on his bed again, a heavy comforting hand resting on his shoulder.

 

“Hey son.”  His Dad holds up a bag from the diner and Stiles’ mouth starts to water as he smells the deliciousness  that is curly fries.  Struggling to sit up he accepts a hand from his Dad who in no time at all has him propped up against a mountain of pillows, bag in front of him and mouth stuffed to overflowing with salty fried goodness.

 

He can’t help but snicker at the woeful look on his Dad’s face when he opens his container of garden salad.  His Dad knows that he can’t cheat twice in one day so he’s saving it for pizza tonight. Taking pity on him, Stiles pulls out a couple of fries and drapes them over the greenery.  His Dad wolfs them down, sighing ecstatically.  Guess he knows where he gets his love of fast food from.

 

“’unks nad”  He chews rapidly, drawing the fries into his mouth like it’s spaghetti.  “Thanks Dad” he says again after he’s swallowed them down.   

 

Stiles is secretly pleased that his Dad’s extended his normal ‘bite and run’ lunch to spend a companionable 45 minutes together.  He doesn’t talk about the cases he’s working on, that hasn’t changed, but he does talk about some of the other deputies many of whom he’s known for his entire life and how they’re all asking about him.  Tara’s promising to help him catch up with any schoolwork once he goes back to school, which Stiles is thankful for because she’s helped him so much with his math that his grades have improved in that subject beyond what Stiles had even hoped for.

 

At the back of his mind he wonders where Derek is and just hopes he’s okay and that he’s coming back.

 

His Dad’s been gone for nearly an hour and Stiles feels like a soldier on watch, he can’t drag his eyes away from the bedroom window and when he sees a shadow pass across it he flies from his bed to stand waiting as Derek climbs in.  As soon as the older boy is in and standing upright, Stiles is wrapped around him, face pressed hard into Derek’s solid chest.

 

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming back.”  His breathing is choppy and hiccupping in his relief.  Derek just holds him, his strong arms comforting and Stiles wonders how he’s going to manage another year with just memories to keep him going.

 

“Wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”  Derek whispers into his hair.  He can feel his hot breath against his scalp, ruffling the strands, sending tingles down his spine.  “Just had a couple of things to do.”

 

He pulls back to look up into that heartbreakingly beautiful face.  Stiles just drinks him in, examining all his features, the sweeping dark lashes, myriad hued eyes and high cheekbones.  Derek may have shaved that morning but there’s a shadow of stubble along his chin and jawline now, it’s irresistible to Stiles and he’s watching mesmerised as his hands, seemingly out of his control, cup Derek’s face.  The prickle against his sensitive palm and fingers is an intense delight.

 

Derek’s eyelids flutter closed and he’s rubbing and nuzzling his face into Stiles’ hands, careful of the cast.  With a suddenness that makes Stiles gasp aloud, Derek’s got his face buried in the groove of his neck and shoulder.

 

“I miss this.”  Derek says gruffly, making Stiles shudder as he feels his hot, moist breath against his skin.

 

“Miss what?”  Stiles gulps out.

 

“Your scent.”  Derek lifts his head and his eyes are glowing blue. 

 

“I lie awake at night.. sure that I’m remembering it.. but when I see you again.. when I scent you again..”  A low rumble escapes from the older boy.  “It’s nothing like it..  it’s so much better.”  Derek dips his head and drags his nose and slightly parted mouth up the length of Stiles’ throat making him quiver as he draws in his scent deep into his lungs before stepping back, not before Stiles has seen the way Derek’s hands clench into tight fists, knuckles white.

 

“God you smell so good Stiles.. so good.”

 

Stiles just wants to soothe him, to ease the tension that pulls his face taut and puts grooves on either side of his mouth.  Knows just the thing.

 

“You caught me by surprise last year.”  Stiles turns and opens his closet door and rummages through until he finds his box of treasures.  Opening it he grabs the small brightly wrapped package and holds it out to the werewolf. 

 

“Happy belated birthday Derek.”  He smiles encouragingly at the older boy who looks momentarily dumbfounded.

 

“Stiles you didn’t need to..”

 

“Well you didn’t either.” 

 

Derek lifts an eyebrow.  “That’s different.. you’re my mate.”

 

“So you can give me gifts because I’m your mate?”  Stiles asks, can feel his face screwing up in puzzlement as Derek nods his head.  “But I’m not allowed to do the same back, even though you’re my mate.”

 

Derek’s face flushes bright red as Stiles calls him his mate, it rises up his throat and across his nose and cheeks, even the tips of his ears.  It gives Stiles a funny squishy feeling inside.  He’s starting to suspect that the other boy is maybe affected by him as much as Stiles is by Derek.  Go figure. 

 

Stiles walks up to the young man and thrusts the gift at Derek’s chest, crooks a finger at him to bend lower and whispers in his ear when he does.

 

“Too bad.  Mate.”  He emphasizes before darting a kiss at Derek’s cheek who sucks in a sharp breath and quickly looks at Stiles, eyes flickering back and forth between Stiles’ eyes and his mouth.  “Happy birthday.”  He says again, softer.

 

Derek looks at the gift as though he doesn’t know what to do with it, then a slow pleased smile lights up his face and it’s Stiles’ turn to suck in his breath.  There is a radiance shining from Derek that’s almost blinding and Stiles can feel a peculiar sensation in his chest.  It feels like a tight band is forming around the vicinity of his heart.  Surely he’s too young for a heart attack?

 

Derek sits down on the desk chair.  He carefully slides his finger between the red wrapping paper and the tape holding it together.  Stiles nervously hops from one foot to the other.  His guts feel like they’re forming knots he’s so anxious for Derek to like it, almost thinks he’s going to throw up when the older boy has the paper completely open and he’s simply looking at the parcel’s contents for the longest time.

 

“Stiles.”  He gently strokes a fingertip along the figurine’s face.  “It looks like you.”  He says in wonder.  Derek pulls the figurine of the boy and the wolf out of the wrapping and holds it upright in his palm, examining every feature closely.

 

“There was a craft market that Scott’s Mom took us to one weekend and..  and when I saw it I...  It’s Peter and the wolf.”  He finishes lamely.  The figurine had caught his eye the minute he’d seen it.  The black wolf wrapped around the smaller boy, a boy with sable coloured hair and golden brown eyes.

 

“Since we can’t have photos of each other.. I.. I thought this might remind you of.. of me.”  He dips his head, not quite sure where to look.  “Of us.”

 

It was one of the many things that they had talked about at his last birthday, that it was too dangerous for them to contact each other outside of these brief visits and to have any photos or personal information about each other.  Hunters could easily use it against them.  

 

“Thank you Stiles.”  Derek reaches out a hand and draws Stiles to stand in between his spread legs.  Even seated the top of Derek’s head is level with his chest.  Derek wraps one arm around his slim hips and pulls him in close to bury his face in the front of Stiles’ t-shirt.  All Stiles can do is cradle Derek’s head against him, his cast heavy on the other boy’s shoulders, and rest his cheek against the soft, silky black hair.  They stay that way for the longest time and it feels good and right and Stiles never wants it to end.

 

Inevitably, it does and Derek pulls back to look up into his face.  He stretches up, eyes intent on Stiles’ mouth and Stiles unconsciously lowers his head and his eyes flutter closed as their lips brush against each other.  It’s sweet and gentle and they both sigh in contentment.

 

Derek wraps the figurine back up in it’s wrapping paper, placing it carefully on the desk, before leading Stiles back to his bed and tucking him in so he’s propped up against the pillows, with one placed over his belly so he can rest his cast on it comfortably.  Then Derek’s crawling alongside him up onto the bed and lies curved into him.

 

“Your turn.”  Derek hands Stiles an envelope.  Inside is a birthday card.  When he opens it and glances at the writing he doesn’t recognise it, he knows Derek’s from the many hours where he’s studied the card from his Mom’s flowers.  It takes a moment for him to decipher the writing and when he does his mouth gapes.

 

“How did..?  I don’t believe it.”  He’s looking from the writing to back at Derek, who’s got a distinctly smug look on his face.

 

The writing is flowing and loopy but he reads ‘Happy 12th birthday Stiles, have a magical day, J K Rowling’.

 

“She was book signing in New York and I.. I somehow ended up joining the queue.”  He smiles, white teeth gleaming evidently pleased with himself knowing how much Stiles loves Harry Potter.  Stiles can’t help smiling back at how cocky Derek is, it’s another side of him entirely and he realises with a sudden sharp pang to his insides just how much the young man in front of him means to him and his smile falters momentarily.

 

“Stiles?”  The worried tone in Derek’s voice brings him back and he shakes his head.

 

“I love it.  I really do.  I love it.. I love..”  He pauses because it’s spilling out of him uncontrollably, whispered almost like a confession in a church.  “I love you.”

 

Stiles lifts his gaze to look into Derek’s eyes and he watches how they darken from haunting silvery light green to almost black as his pupils blow out until they eventually turn again and become wolf blue.

 

Stiles is all too aware of the way Derek’s  breathing is suddenly harsh and he can only blink as the older boy’s now  kneeling by his side, hovering over him.  Derek’s hands have shifted into claws and they dig into his denim clad thighs, nails piercing the tough fabric, his chest heaving as he pants rapidly sucking in air like he can’t get enough. 

 

“Stiles.. Stiles.. Stiles”  He says his name over and over in a shaky voice and Stiles can see that even though his blue eyes blaze at him, there is a trickle of moisture travelling down the plane of his face.  He reaches up and with his thumb gently wipes the tear away before bringing it to his mouth and sucking the salty water off it.  Derek growls heatedly.

 

“My mate.. how did I get so lucky..  you’re so beautiful.”  He leans down and presses his lips to Stiles, does it gently because his fangs have dropped.  “You’re so brave and strong.  Everything you’ve done for me… everything you’ve had to face and I.. I wasn’t here with you.”

 

“Don’t.”  Stiles whispers, can’t bear to see Derek racked with guilt.  “Just don’t.”  

 

Derek rests his forehead against Stiles’.  He shakes his head refusing Stiles’ absolution.  Stiles lifts his uninjured hand to cup the back of Derek’s head and he starts to thread his fingers through the soft strands of his hair.  Gently and rhythmically he cards through the black hair and after a while feels Derek start to relax as though the tension is seeping out of him.

 

When Derek pulls back his eyes are back to normal and his breathing has evened out.  He rolls off the side of the bed and walks to where his leather jacket is hanging over the back of the chair.  He pulls out a mobile phone and a charger from the inside pocket.

 

Sitting back down next to Stiles, Derek hands the phone to him.

 

“This is for you.  It’s an emergency contact phone and there’s only one phone number programmed into it.  Mine.”  He takes hold of Stiles hand which is wrapped around the small black phone.  “You ring me, no matter what if you’re feeling under threat of any type at all.  You.  Ring.  Me.”

 

Stiles just nods, slightly overwhelmed by the intense note he hears in Derek’s voice.

 

“I was wrong, for you not to be able to contact me at all.. if you had none of this might’ve happened.”  His gaze rakes across Stiles’ body seeking all the bruises and injuries that he bears.  “Make sure you keep it charged.  Okay?”  Again, Stiles can only just nod his throat to tight and dry to let him speak.

 

“I’ve also set up an account at this florist.”  He gives Stiles a business card.  Stiles recognises the name and knows that this is one of the best florist shops in Beacon Hills.  “Whenever you need flowers, you go here and get what you need and don’t worry about how much or anything like that okay.  I’ve got it covered.”

 

“Thank you.”  Stiles says hoarsely. 

 

“You won’t need to go into the woods again.  Ever.”  Derek emphasizes and there’s a look in his eyes that dares Stiles to even attempt to try and argue the point.

 

“What the hell dude?  You sound just like my Dad.”  Stiles grumpily tries to pull his hand out of Derek’s, but the other boy refuses to let go.

 

“Good.  He and I are obviously on the same page.   You’re not to go into the woods Stiles.”  Derek’s face is so stern that it makes him quiver slightly, in not exactly fear but it’s close.  Stiles can’t help himself though.

 

“It’s not the location that’s at fault here you know.. it’s that jerk Greenberg.” He knows he sounds snarky, knows that Derek’s just wanting him safe.. but really he’s 12 not 2.

 

“If you hadn’t been so isolated then he wouldn’t have been able to get in as many hits as he did, if any.”  Derek’s unrelenting.  “Promise me Stiles, no more visits to the woods.”  Stiles is just about to unload on how unreasonable he’s being when Derek says quietly.  “Please.”

 

Damn it. 

 

“Okay.”  He murmurs.  Derek lets out what Stiles thinks is an all too obvious sigh of relief and he huffs out a loud snarky breath in response, does it again when he catches a glimpse of a small smile on those devastatingly sensuous lips.

 

“What were you doing?”  Derek nods his head at the open laptop on the bedside table.  “Homework.. did you want some help?”

 

“Nah I was just trying to watch a movie.. but I was a bit.. uhm.. distracted.” 

 

“What movie?”

 

“Blazing Saddles.”

 

“I’ve always meant to watch that.. I’ve heard it’s real funny..”  Derek stops when he realises that Stiles is just gaping open mouthed at him.

 

“Seriously.  You haven’t seen it?”  Stiles picks up the laptop carefully with one hand and pats the mattress next to him.  “Get comfortable because we are going to give you an education in classic comedy.”

 

For the next couple of hours Stiles feels like he’s entered some type of heaven.  Derek is lying next to him, his arm draped across his shoulders just holding him to his side.  It means every time Derek laughs it vibrates all the way through Stiles’ body.  Watching it again with Derek lets him see it through fresh eyes and he’s almost hysterical when he sees Derek’s expression at the camp fire, beans and farting scene.  It makes him giggle intermittently for the rest of the movie every time he thinks about it.

 

When it finishes there is a lightness to Derek’s face, even his eyebrows don’t look nearly as threatening as they normally do.

 

“Thank you.”  Stiles says.

 

“What for?”  Derek asks puzzled and his eyebrows have instantly returned to defcon 1 – the doom setting, arching high above his light green eyes.

 

“Don’t think I didn’t see what you were doing during that.”  The hand and arm that had draped across his shoulders had every now and then pulsed with black veins as Derek had drawn pain out of him. 

 

“I.. Stiles.”  Derek’s face has turned to the window, where Stiles realises to his surprise that daylight is fading fast.  “Stiles I can hear your Dad coming down the street.”  He quickly rolls off the bed and Stiles feels instantly cold as that heat that’s been pressed to his side for the afternoon is gone.  He starts to shake and can feel his eyes sting as he frantically scrambles off the bed and throws himself against his mate.

 

“Derek I.. please..”  Stiles doesn’t even know what he’s asking for, just he can’t bear it.  He’s going and how will Stiles endure another year without him.  Feels like he’s shattering into tiny pieces.

 

They wrap their arms around each other and just cling tightly and Stiles realises that it’s not just him trembling, Derek is as well and he’s drawing in deep breaths as though trying to keep Stiles’ scent inside him forever.

 

“Stiles.”  Derek sounds like he’s in pain and he starts to press wild desperate kisses all over Stiles’ face, across his cheeks, nose, lips and eyes.  He lets go and has to gently prise Stiles’ fingers off the grip he has on his shirt.  He scoops up his leather jacket and the present which he cradles as though it’s the most precious of treasures.

 

As he climbs out the window, straddling the sill, Stiles lays one hand on the hard muscular thigh that’s still inside the boundaries of his bedroom, feels it twitch hard under his fingers.

 

Derek answers the unspoken question.  “Next year Stiles.. I’ll see you next year.”  He reaches up and with a final brush of his thumb across Stiles’ jawline he’s gone.

 

Stiles stands there for what feels like the longest time, eyes unseeing, heart shattering.  When he hears his Dad unlock the front door he swiftly gathers the phone, charger and birthday card and places them in his treasure chest.

 

When his Dad enters his bedroom Stiles is back in bed with his laptop.  When he sees the serious look on his Dad’s face, Stiles can feel the tempo of his heart start to increase.  Did his Dad see something?  Does he know something.. about Derek?

 

“Hey kiddo.”  His Dad sits on the edge of his bed.  “I’ve got some news.. about Greenberg.”

 

Stiles almost throws up.  Oh shit did Derek..??

 

“What?  What is it Dad?”  The panicked tone gets through to his Dad and he grabs Stiles fluttering hand in his.

 

“Stiles it’s okay.  I just wanted to let you know I had a call from Mr and Mrs Greenberg this afternoon, Adam wanted to talk to me.”  Stiles lets out a breath of profound relief, like a deflating balloon.

 

“What did he want?”  Stiles manages to ask.

 

“He wanted to confess.”  His Dad sees the look on his face.  “Yeah I know.. I couldn’t believe it either.   Tara took the statement, I didn’t want them to get even the remotest chance that they would be able to challenge it in court later if they changed their minds.”

 

“He also confirmed that Justin and Blake participated in some of the bullying you experienced at school.  It was a pretty comprehensive confession Stiles.”  His Dad looks at him sadly.  “He spoke about things you hadn’t mentioned.”

 

Stiles stomach flips and clenches hard.  He squeezes his Dad’s hand which is still clasping his, his Dad’s callouses rasp against his flesh and it’s comforting. 

 

“I.. I just couldn’t.”  He can only hope his Dad understands, thinks he does when he simply nods and squeezes his hand back.

 

“I’m almost tempted to ask for a psych evaluation for him.  There was just something a bit off.”  At Stiles’ questioning look he continues.  “The kid looked terrified.  I’ve never seen anything like it, I could almost smell it and he never took his eyes off the window the whole time.”

 

Stiles can only gulp.  He has an idea what’s caused this sudden urge to confess in the other boy.

 

“In between questions he was just mumbling under his breath.. I couldn’t make it out at first but then I realised he was saying it over and over again ‘stay invisible or disappear for good’ it doesn’t make any sense.”  His Dad chews on his bottom lip as he puzzles it over, before shrugging.

 

“Anyway I just wanted you to know what’s happening.  I’ll go and phone through that pizza order now, I’m starving.”  He walks to the door and stops in the door frame.  “Happy birthday Stiles, I love you son.”

 

“Thanks Dad.. I love you too.”  Stiles can’t believe it, his mind’s racing furiously.  This afternoon Derek was gone for a few hours and Stiles can guess who he paid a visit to.  He’s relieved and grateful, this could’ve hung over him, marked his record for a very long time.  Derek’s put the fear of the wolf into Greenberg and it’s worked.

 

It just makes him love Derek even more.  He feels heat stain his cheeks and wonders how on earth he had the nerve to tell the most beautiful person he knows that he loves him.  Replays that moment in his head, replays the day’s events in his head as best as he’s able to.  Frowning, Stiles recalls the conversation he’s just had with his Dad.  He said ‘I love you’ and Stiles had replied ‘I love you too’ which is normal and perfectly okay because he does love his Dad and that’s what you say when you love someone.

 

It’s just dawned on Stiles that when he told Derek he loved him, he didn’t say it back.  His chest feels achy.

 

He didn’t say it back and for the first time since he met the teenage werewolf, Stiles feels doubt.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles' 13th birthday finds him trying to avoid Derek's visit. The past year has been a tormented one for Stiles, at his previous birthday he confessed to Derek that he loved him, the fact that Derek didn't respond in kind has eaten away at the younger boy until he's a confused, hurting mess. Stiles maybe trying to hide from Derek but that doesn't stop the older teen from finding his mate. Will they be able to sort things out or will this be the end?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are just flowing at the moment, which I'm not sure if it's a good thing or not, normally I agonize over the editing and revisions but this one seemed easier. I just hope I'm not blinding myself to the quality. Anyway, please enjoy.
> 
> Thanks to those who've commented and left kudos - you are all so awesome.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - just between me, myself and I.

_Stiles’ 13 th birthday.._

Stiles lies awake staring at the ceiling of a bedroom which isn’t his own.  The soft snore from the boy beside him makes him roll his eyes. 

 

Scott’s asthma sometimes makes him breathe with an open gaping mouth that makes the air rattle through his throat and sinuses as he sleeps.  Stiles gives him a little poke in the side with his elbow and Scott rolls over onto his belly, clutching his pillow tight.  He stops snoring.

 

If Stiles had a second home this would be it, with the McCall’s.  Scott and he have shared a double bed here ever since he can remember, from the first time he ever had a sleepover.  He’s comfortable here, enough that he doesn’t panic when he wakes up and looks around and doesn’t see the familiar contents of his own bedroom.

 

His Dad normally tries to be on day shift around his birthday, but with a nasty stomach flu going through the Station and Deputies dropping like flies, his Dad’s had to do nights for the past week.  When his Dad suggested they ask Mrs McCall if he can stay over, for a couple of nights, Stiles is quite on board with the idea of not being in his own bedroom on this particular morning.  His birthday.

 

A wave of nausea rolls through his stomach at the thought of seeing Derek again.  It’s a fierce longing and a terrible hurt tempered with anger.  For the past year Stiles has been alternating between too many emotions when he thinks of the young man he loves.   The young man who knows he does since Stiles told him.  He groans softly, just thinking about how he put it all on the line and got.. nothing back.  Embarrassment and dismay war for supremacy.

 

It’s been a confusing year.  The day to day living with his Dad and school, even lacrosse has been okay.   He’s been surviving.  The year-long emotional rollercoaster he’s been feeling can all be pin pointed to one person.  Derek.  Sometimes he thinks his heart is being strangled by the chains of ownership that the other boy has wrapped around it.

 

When, what he likes to call, the ‘Greenberg Scandal’ broke Stiles had to endure the whispers, rumours and sideways glances when he returned to school, still bearing the marks and the cast that the other boy had inflicted on him.  Scott had been horrified when he realised what Stiles had endured, although Stiles never told his best friend that he was partially the reason that Greenberg had such a hold over him.  Scott’s such a sweet person that he would drown in the guilt of knowing that Stiles had been hurt because of him.

 

As often happens when the truth comes out and one person comes forward then the rest do and there was a seemingly steady flood of boys on and off the team who claimed to have been bullied by Greenberg and his two henchmen, Justin and Blake.  The three boys were all thrown off the team, suspended and apparently to sources in the know, aka his Dad, given detention for life.

 

It didn’t take much for Stiles to realise that Justin and Blake had received visits from Derek as well.  On his first day back when he’d walked down the crowded corridor with Scott, they’d both fallen to their knees and begged his forgiveness in front of the entire student body.  The two boys had trembled so much that they’d dropped to all fours exposing the backs of their necks where Stiles could distinctly see five deep slashes, which would match a large hand who's owner he was all too familiar with, fingers tipped with razor sharp nails.  A loud buzz followed him down the corridor when he simply walked past them, not acknowledging their presence at all.  He just couldn’t.

 

Scott had looked at him, curiosity burning brightly in his eyes, obviously wondering how and why these two older, larger boys were suddenly on their knees but Stiles couldn’t talk about it.  It was still too painful and raw, the things they’d said and done to him.

 

Six weeks later and Greenberg was back at school and Stiles had been apprehensive at first, but whatever Derek had said or done to the other boy was powerful enough that whenever Greenberg saw him he always turned away first or left the room.  It happened so frequently Stiles was sure that the other boy had developed a radar about him because eventually he was lucky to even capture the barest glimpse of his ex-tormentor.  He became invisible.

 

When everything died down he returned to just being that funny looking kid, you know the Sheriff's son.  Not popular, not cool and not part of any particular group, just happy to have Scott as his friend.

 

Having a werewolf for a boyfriend definitely had some positive points and he was grateful to Derek for stepping in this time.  He wondered what Derek would think if he called him boyfriend to his face?  Would he growl, smile maybe or tell him not to be stupid?  Stiles had come to accept that while he could recognise how attractive some of his other classmates were, both male and female, he wasn't drawn to them like he was to Derek.  Maybe he needed to come up with another definition of sexuality for himself, wolfsexual or Derek-centric? 

 

The second anniversary of his Mom’s passing was endurable.  Stiles had taken a leaf out of his Mom’s and Derek’s book and decided that her life should be celebrated not mourned.  He’d gathered together a blanket and a picnic basket filled with food, some of their family photo albums, told his Dad to make sure he wasn’t rostered to work that day, and they spent the day sprawled on the grass next to his Mom.  Eating, drinking and remembering.

 

When a florist delivery van pulled up at a distance in the morning and the driver got out checked the plot numbers nearest to him then started walking towards them, Stiles got a good look at the purple flowers he could see even from a distance and he knew who had sent them. 

 

It was a beautiful bouquet and the card said ‘To Claudia, a very special lady.’  Stiles’ Dad couldn’t help himself and the poor driver retreated rapidly after being interrogated by the Sheriff.  No - the order wasn’t local.  No – a credit card wasn’t used, paid via Western Union.  Yes – the writing on the card was the florist’s.  Yes – here was the name of the person who ordered the flowers.. a.. sorry Sheriff I can’t pronounce this..  Sergei Prokofiev.  That was the name his Dad had written down in his notebook.  It was a mystery because Stiles didn’t recognise the name at all.  What did it mean to Derek that he used this alias?

 

It had been too quiet and still earlier and Stiles hadn’t wanted to disturb the peace and serenity that had stretched across the green grass surrounding them.  But, after that excitement, Stiles reached into his back pack and pulled out his Ipod and a portable docking station with speakers, he’d compiled a song list of his Mom’s favourites on his Ipod. 

 

From the first one, the Beatles “All you need is love” his Dad had reached out a hand to grasp his and smiled sadly with tears in his eyes, but they had made it through the day, talking, laughing and crying.  When his Dad hugged him tight as they packed up and whispered into his hair ‘Thank you Stiles’, he knew that they were going to be okay this time.  The level in the bottle of Jack in the bottom of the filing cabinet didn’t change at all for the entire week leading upto and including the day of his Mom's anniversary.

 

When they got home Stiles had rushed to his room and searched for Sergei Prokofiev and he couldn’t help laughing aloud as the results list showed that ol’ Sergei had been a composer.  One of his most famous works was ‘Peter and the wolf’.  It makes his heart twist all over again realising that Derek had remembered this special date for Stiles and his family and that he obviously had a sense of humor tucked away, somewhere within the hairy hide of a werewolf.

 

 

Derek was never far from his thoughts and the temptation that the phone provided was almost unbearable.  He’d pull it out of his treasure box and scroll through to the contacts where there was no name, only one phone number and his thumb would twitch madly wanting to press the dial button.  He never did.

 

How could you love someone so much and hate them all at the same time?  That was a lie he admitted to himself.  He didn’t hate Derek, just hated that he didn’t seem to feel the same way.  Stiles knew that Derek cared for him, that part was obvious, was it just the mate thing, was that as far as it went.  What did being mates mean?  What did it mean to Derek?  Stiles didn’t know, just knew that he was greedy he wanted it all.  He wanted Derek’s love.. wanted his need, his desire, his friendship.  Everything.

 

Which is why he was relieved to be here at the McCall’s.  Last time it felt like he’d broken something inside when Derek had to leave.  He didn’t think he could do it again.  It just hurt too much to only have him for a few hours and then watch him go.

 

He glanced at the clock.  5.00am.  Still another half hour before Derek would find his house dark and empty.  Would he be worried?  Would he..

 

 _‘Stiles.’_   He was imagining it.  Had to be, there was no way..

 

 _‘Stiles.. it’s me.’_   Stiles lies there frozen.  His muscles locked and his mind working furiously.  There was no way he’d expected Derek to find him here.

 

 _‘Stiles I’d find you anywhere.  I’ll always find you.’_   Stiles swallows hard, not sure if it’s a threat or a promise.

 

 _‘Both.’_   The voice sounds almost amused.  _‘Stiles.’_ He grabs the pillow and drags it over his head trying to block out the voice in his head.  When he doesn’t answer Derek doesn’t sound amused any longer, more concerned, worried.

 

_‘Stiles.. what’s wrong?’_

 

 _‘What’s wrong?  What’s wrong? I.. I.. just go away.’_   God, that sounded so pathetic.  So childlike, he winces.

_‘Stiles please.. come down and see me.. it’s okay.’_

_‘No.’_   Stiles is shaking, the need to see him is a physical ache.  He quietly and carefully lifts up and moves to the head of the bed which is directly below the bedroom’s large window, glancing at Scott he sees the other boy is still deeply asleep, unmoving. 

 

Lifting the curtains he ducks under them and looks out to the large yard below the second storey window.  It’s still dark and there is very little light with which to see by yet his eyes are drawn unerringly to where Derek stands at the base of the large oak tree, a dark shape with flashing electric blue eyes.  His skin itches and burns knowing that the werewolf can probably see him as clearly as though it were day.

 

He shakes his head, no.. and again, no.  He can’t do this, not again, having his heart torn out every time they part, wondering what Derek feels for him.. is it love.. lust or convenience, that he's just happened to come across someone compatible?  It hurts too much.

 

_‘Stiles.. please I.. I need you.. I need to see you.’_

_‘Need.’_ Stiles feels disappointment swell within him, if Derek had said this in conjunction with another word starting with ‘L’ he might feel very different.  He presses his forehead against the cool glass and closes his eyes.

 

The glass vibrates against his skin when something taps against it.  Stiles’ eyes flash open, his heart beating wildly and he’s looking up into Derek’s wolf features, the dropped fangs pricking into his full lower lip, the broad nose and heavy brows over glowing blue eyes.

 

What the hell?  How the fuck is Derek in front of him, looking through the window of a second storey bedroom when there is nothing for him to stand on.  Stiles realises that Derek’s got one knee balanced on the sliver of external window sill, his other leg is straight and fully extended his booted foot braced against the side of the house, the position tilts his pelvis back and out over the drop to the ground. 

 

What anchors him is his claws, arms fully extended, the left straight out to his side at shoulder height and the right straight up in the air reaching for the top of the window frame.  Stiles looks to his right out the window and can see where the claw-like nails have pierced deeply into the wood, locking him into place.

 

“Stiles.”  He can hear the deep voice which is barely a whisper through the glass and he shudders.  

 

“Please.”  Derek says as he releases the claws of his left hand so he’s hanging there through the grace of God and his razor sharp nails of one hand, which are piercing the wood.   Derek moves his free hand until it’s pressing against the glass, broad palm flat, long fingers splayed above it.    Stiles isn’t immune to the pleading look that Derek gives him and lifts his hand mirroring Derek’s.   He presses it flat against the glass, the only thing that’s keeping their flesh from touching, even so he can swear he feels Derek’s heat seeping into his hand. 

 

 _‘Meet me downstairs.’_   The older boy orders firmly.  

 

Stiles squeaks as Derek pushes off the side of the house and flips backwards in mid-air, a graceful arc of lean muscle and taut strength.  He mushes his face against the window, pressing hard so he can follow Derek’s descent where he lands in a half-crouch, one hand touching the ground in front of him, the other flung behind him for balance.  He immediately looks up and sees Stiles watching him and beckons him with a tilt of his head.

 

 _‘Show off.’_ He sends that thought, while trying to calm his rapidly beating heart.

 

Stiles rolls off the bed freezing in place as Scott stirs before settling back down nuzzling into his pillow.  Mrs McCall is a heavy sleeper, he and Scott have known that for a long time with the amount of mischief they would get up to on other sleepovers, so he’s not too concerned that she’ll hear him.  He creeps through the darkened house, grateful that he knows it so well.  Unlocking the front door he walks out onto the front porch, shivering slightly in the cool early morning air feeling it penetrating the thin cotton of his sleep t-shirt and pants.

 

Derek is standing at the far end of the porch, it’s slightly lighter here and he can see streaking grey and silver light penetrating the darkness in the sky as dawn approaches behind him.

 

“Stiles.”  Derek starts to move towards him and Stiles can’t help himself as he moves skittishly backwards.  It’s like some bizarre dance, Derek takes a step forward and Stiles takes one back.

 

There is a look on the older boy’s face that Stiles can’t interpret as they both stop in place.

 

“Tell me.. what’s going on?”  Derek gestures back and forth between them emphasizing the space that’s separating them.

 

“I.. I..”  Stiles struggles.  He doesn’t want to hurt him, but he doesn’t want to hurt either.  It’s an aching confusion that makes him feel out of control. 

 

“I can’t.”  He eventually whispers, feels his face crumple and averts his face looking down to the wooden floorboards beneath their feet.  Holds up a shaky hand in front of him defensively as he sees the black shitkickers Derek’s wearing take a step towards him.  Hears a strangled intake of breath.

 

“Stiles.. Stiles.. you’ve..you’ve changed your mind.  You don’t want to be with me anymore.”  Stiles wants to cry at the pain and sorrow he hears in the other boy’s voice, then he realises he is.  Tears slowly slide down his face and he can’t speak his throat is too tight, a huge lump there and he can barely swallow around it as he peeks a look at Derek out of the corner of his eye.

 

Derek’s shoulders are slumped and he lifts a hand to rub his face tiredly.

 

“At least tell me that those boys haven’t caused you anymore trouble.”  His voice sounds like gravel, rough and grating.

 

“No.. I’m.. it’s good.” He chokes out, eyes closing.  Who’s he kidding?  Good.  He is so far from good right now that he’s not even sure he’d recognise the feeling anymore.  It’s all pain and that’s all he can see ahead of him. 

 

When he opens his eyes Derek’s gone.  Stiles heart threatens to burst in his chest as he looks all around, his eyes scanning the yard trying to penetrate the dark shadows, but he’s gone.  Truly gone and Stiles feels like all the other hurt and pain he’d been feeling was a mere pinprick in comparison to the plunging blade of pain that threatens to shred his heart.

 

What has he done?  He stumbles down the porch steps out onto the grass, feels the cool wet dew beneath his feet, it soaks into the hem of his sleep pants.  He starts to run, calling out in his mind.

 

 _‘Derek.. Derek.. don’t go.. come back..’_   Terror washes over him at the thought of never seeing him again.  What the hell made him think that would ever.. ever be a good idea? 

 

It suddenly occurs to him what the look on Derek’s face was that he couldn’t interpret before, it was resignation.  It was as though Derek had expected it, that Stiles’ rejection had been anticipated, more a case of not if but when.

 

He hits the road, feels the black tarmac beneath his feet.  Looks both ways but can’t see anything until just ahead on his right he sees the glowing red rear lights of a car and he knows and starts to run.  He’s running down the middle of a suburban street in near darkness in his sleep wear chasing after a werewolf.  This is his life now, as weird and bizarre as it maybe, and he knows now he doesn’t want it to change.  Can’t imagine not having Derek in his life as brief as his visits are.

 

 _‘Stop.. Derek.. please.. come back.. don’t leave me.. I’m sorry..’_   His lungs are feeling raw as he runs with every ounce of energy he can draw from his body.  His feet burn and ache as they pound the road.  Tears and snot are streaming down his face as grief wells within him, he’s ruined it all, driven away his wolf.. his love and he doesn’t know how to find him.  He only has a phone number. 

 

The red lights disappear and Stiles collapses, falling to his knees in the middle of the road and he sobs uncontrollably his face buried in his hands.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has collapsed in grief in the middle of the road, after he's tried to chase Derek down. Where has Derek gone? And is he coming back? Will Stiles and Derek still be mates by the end of Stiles' 13th birthday?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who've commented and left kudos - thank you to those who've been following this fic and have been feeling this Stiles' and Derek's pain, it's not deliberate I swear.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed - all by myself

_‘Derek.. I’m sorry.. I’m sorry.. don’t leave me please.. please..’_

_‘Stiles.’_

 

Hunched over as gasping sobs make him shudder, it takes Stiles a moment to realise a dark shape is at his side, that the voice in his head isn’t just him, his grief is that overwhelming. 

 

_‘Stiles.’_

 

Large hands bracelet his wrists and gently tug his hands away from his face and through the blur of tears Stiles sees wolf blue eyes and throws himself forward desperate to reach the kneeling figure before him.

 

“Stiles.”  Derek whispers his name brokenly and Stiles can see that his face is just as wet with tears as his own is.

 

“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..”  Stiles lets his forehead drop onto Derek’s chest, savours the feeling of the other boy’s rapid yet rhythmic breathing.

 

“Stiles.. what the hell is going on?  Don’t toy with me.”  There is the first hint of puzzled anger in Derek’s voice and it trips something inside Stiles, fuels his sense of outrage.

 

A violent swirl of emotions rages through him love.. fear.. guilt.. anger.. and he yanks his hands back, Derek releasing him swiftly.  Makes tight fists that he pounds against the rock hard chest in front of him.

 

“Toy with you.."  He gasps and anger triumphs.  

 

"You didn’t say it back.. you didn’t say it back..”  He cries over and over.  Derek wraps his arms around his shoulders and draws him into his body slowly and inexorably until there is no room for Stiles to pull back his arms and pummel him, they’re tucked in between their two bodies and he’s sobbing into the warm cotton that covers Derek’s chest.  His head nestled under Derek’s chin. 

 

His head whirls crazily as he feels Derek effortlessly pick him up and he carries him, one arm behind his back the other beneath his knees, back down the street to a white sedan, the driver’s side door still open.  The interior light glows in the semi-darkness like a beacon.  Stiles had literally run past it in his sheer terror at never seeing the young man, who holds him so carefully, again. 

 

Derek kicks the open door shut as he passes.  Stiles refuses to let go when Derek tries to put him in the front passenger seat and eventually Derek concedes defeat and climbs into the back with Stiles in his lap.

 

Stiles shudders, chilled, and Derek pulls his leather jacket open wide before wrapping it around him.  He snuggles and burrows into the warmth of Derek’s body, just lying there as his breathing evens out.  His tears have long since stopped, he doesn’t have any more in him, nor the strength to keep fighting, his emotions have drained him.

 

“Stiles.. what’s going on? What’s happening here?”  There is such pained confusion in Derek’s voice that Stiles feels pity for him, a hysterical hitching giggle escapes him.

 

“What’s happening is that I’m losing my mind.”  He snorts, which makes him laugh harder, until he can’t anymore just stops and lifts his head to look at the man he loves.  Stiles has always been slightly reckless, doing and saying things that maybe he should’ve thought over instead of pressing on and charging ahead.  Maybe it’s the ADHD or maybe it’s just him, either way it’s what got him into this situation. This time is no different, he can feel it welling within him, the need to know, the need to tell Derek what he’s feeling.

 

“I love you.”  He says softly.  Watching Derek’s throat work, as he swallows hard.  His eyes which had started to bleed back to normal, flare hot blue again.  Stiles sits and waits, just looking, taking in the way Derek’s eyes dart frantically around him looking for escape and Stiles can feel Derek’s thighs tense as he fidgets beneath him.  Eventually, Derek stills and his chest moves rapidly, in and out, with his breathing.

 

“Now here is where you say ‘I love you too’ or ‘thanks but no thanks’.  Which is it Derek?”  Derek looks startled and apprehensive, which makes Stiles even more determined to get the truth out of Derek. 

 

“You didn’t say it back to me the last time I told you and I need to know.  What is this between us Derek?”  His voice has surprisingly grown stronger and unhesitating considering all the emotional turmoil he’s gone through this morning.

 

Derek’s so still, unmoving, that Stiles isn’t sure if he’s actually breathing or merely holding his breath.

 

“Stiles you’re my mate.”  Derek says hoarsely as though that says it all.  _‘'And for Christ’s sake.. you’re only 13.’_

 

“I’m your mate and..”  He prompts with his hand moving it in a circular gesture encouraging the wolf to keep going, ignoring the comment about his age.  “What does that mean?” 

 

Derek tries to turn his head, but Stiles is sitting upright now in his lap and before Derek can stop him he swings his legs around until he’s straddling the older boy, he cups his chin and drags his face back towards him.  He shifts restlessly trying to get comfortable, but Derek’s thighs and groin are rock hard beneath him.  A low whine comes from Derek’s throat.  His eyes are flickering all over his face, his gaze feels hot as he focuses on Stiles’ mouth.

 

“What does it mean?”  Stiles presses on, so fixed on Derek that he’s not surprised when the older boy finally snaps, he’d seen the subtle flexing in his shoulders, the readiness to make a move.  He grabs Stiles by the upper arms, not hurting, but firm so there’s no escape.

 

“It means this is it.  It’s you and me forever Stiles.  There will never be anyone else for me, not in this lifetime.  Being my mate..”  He shakes Stiles slightly for emphasis.  “It’s beyond love.. it’s more than the feeble emotions you’ve read or seen on tv and films.  It’s a tie not just of the heart and mind.”

 

He shakes his head, voice harsh.  “Love can be fleeting or it can just be one big lie.” 

 

Stiles flinches as he knows that Derek’s talking about Kate.  Derek’s panting and his eyes are glowing electric blue as all the emotions he’s been supressing around Stiles burst forth.

 

 _‘This voice that you hear in your head.. it’s not just our minds.  It’s my soul speaking to yours.’_   Stiles can feel his stomach knotting at the emotion that’s pouring through the very voice Derek’s talking about.

“It’s everything, heart, mind and soul and once we complete the mate bond we will be tied together forever in this life and into the next.  Is that what you wanted to know?”  Derek’s snarling, his fangs have dropped. 

 

“It’s not just your love I want.  I want it all.. do you think you can give me that?  I won’t settle for less than everything, because I fully intend to give you everything I have, everything I am.”  Derek's voice is rich and smooth, darker than the darkest chocolate.

 

He slowly presses his face closer and closer to Stiles until their noses are almost touching and Stiles can feel his hot breath against his lips making them tingle madly. 

 

“When it’s time, you have to be sure.  If you say yes..”  Derek closes his eyes momentarily, his breath hitching as though imagining it, before continuing. “If you say yes I won’t let you go.. not even if you change your mind again.”

 

Stiles is shaken, not because he’s scared, alright maybe just a bit at Derek’s intensity, but more that what Derek’s saying is echoing what he wants.  He bites his lip and hears Derek rumble, his eyes focused on where Stiles teeth have clamped around his plump lower one.

 

“Everything..  sounds perfect to me.”  He leans forward and presses his lips against Derek’s who growls hungrily and pants and keens loudly as Stiles tongue flicks against his fangs encouraging him to open his mouth.  When he does he slips the tip of his tongue inside and Stiles groans as he feels Derek’s hot and heavy hands caress his back up and down, following the curve of his spine.  Derek tips his head back frantically trying to draw in a breath.  He nuzzles against Stiles neck and freezes. 

 

He’s growling now, and it’s not one of his sexy ones, it’s the dangerous kind where death is a very real possibility.  Derek’s huffing and snuffling along his throat, over and over before he pushes aside the neckline of Stiles’ shirt with his nose.  Stiles can feel a stripe of wet heat over his collarbone where Derek drags his tongue along the slender vulnerable bone.  Tasting him.

 

“Who is this?  Why do you smell so strongly of another.. another male?”  Derek growls low and deep, his voice hard and uncompromising.  His eyes blazing fury.  “It’s all over you.”

 

 _‘Mine..mine..mine.. who dares to touch him.. he’s mine..’_   Stiles hears it repeated over and over in his head while he listens to what Derek’s saying out loud, he thinks maybe Derek doesn’t realise he’s broadcasting so clearly his thoughts.

 

“Uhmm.. Scott I guess.  We.. he.. I’m sleeping at his house and I stay in his room.”  Stiles doesn’t want to admit it but the way Derek’s acting at the moment it’s both scarily intense and kinda hot to.  The wolf is that jealous.

 

“If you’re just staying in his room it wouldn’t be this strong.. ”  Derek’s full blown wolfed out now, features changing into the heavier, hairier wolf version. 

 

“Are you..  are you sleeping with him?”  Stiles can feel the prick of Derek’s claws on his back where they have popped out fully from his fingertips, in a strange way the slight sting of pain makes his skin feel too tight, too sensitive and he can’t stop the soft moan that slips out of his mouth.  It just makes Derek’s fingers dig in deeper.

 

“Yeah.. we always share the bed.”  Derek looks ready to explode, the grooves deepen at the bridge of his nose and along either side of his mouth when he snarls open mouthed, head rolling from side to side.  His chest heaves violently and Stiles body pitches up and down with the turbulent motion where he rests against him.

 

“Derek.. he’s my best friend.. more than that, he’s my brother, but nothing else.. nothing else.  Please don’t..”

 

“No more.  Brother or not, you don’t share a bed with him anymore unless you want him dead.”  Derek’s not kidding, it’s all over him the tense possessiveness..  he’s so not kidding.  “I will kill him for being where I want to be.. in a bed beside you.”

 

Stiles feels warmth flood his cheeks as a wave of heat washes over him, because he doesn’t think Derek’s just talking about sleeping.  His heart is pounding a heavy relentless beat in his chest as he sucks in air frantically feeling like he’s run a marathon. 

 

“I can’t stand it.”  Derek reaches down to the hem of Stiles’ shirt and starts to tug it up.  “Off.. off.” 

 

Before Stiles can even blink, he’s sitting in Derek’s lap only in his sleep pants, his t-shirt thrown to the floor, his chest and torso exposed to the older boy’s burning gaze.  Derek’s eyes narrow to slits as he examines every inch of the slender pale boy before him and he’s rumbling in his chest but it’s a distinctly more pleasurable sound, although still dangerous.  Stiles feels under threat of a different kind right now.  

 

In a flurry of movement, the world turns upside down for Stiles, his head is spinning wildly as he finds himself flat on his back where Derek has laid him across the back seat.  He trembles as he watches Derek jerkily shrug off his jacket and frantically haul the grey Henley he’s wearing over his head. 

 

Stiles gets only a fleeting look at the hottest body he’s ever seen in his life in the dim light, every dip and valley and groove makes his mouth water, then it’s being pressed against him.  Derek lies on top of Stiles their bare chests and bellies coming together and it’s so good, so right that he cries out at the same time as Derek gives a guttural moan.

 

Stiles is harder than he’s ever been before in his life and knows that Derek is aware of it, how can he not be when he’s positioned himself so that his groin is flush against Stiles.  That Derek is sporting a thick hard bulge between his legs which presses against Stiles’ makes him shake so violently that he’s almost on the verge of coming.

 

“Ssshhh.  Ssshhh.”  Derek soothes, whispering in his ear.  “I need you to smell like me.”  He’s muscular, the dense muscle mass makes him heavy and Stiles feels like he’s wearing Derek like a big blanket.  The older boy is unmoving for the longest time, pinning him down, preventing him from grinding up which his body is instinctively struggling to do.  Gradually Stiles trembling eases, he feels safe and warm, his eyes feel heavy and slumberous.  Derek’s drawn him back from the edge.

 

Derek nuzzles into his neck and starts to rub his beautiful human face up and down the length of his throat and chin before dragging open mouthed kisses along his cheeks to his ears.  He’s obviously shaved very recently because he’s very smooth, there is the barest amount of rasp, it’s not painful as it leaves a delicious hot burning sensation in Stiles’ skin. 

 

Stiles is melting, turning into one big gooey puddle as Derek proceeds to lick and lave across his collarbones, nipping delicately in approval when Stiles moans softly.

 

Stiles can’t help himself, Derek’s jawline is exposed as he’s dipping his head to taste Stiles’ skin.  He lifts his head slightly and runs his tongue from the hinge of his jaw to his chin, where he gently nips Derek.  The older boy  freezes, his face pressed hard into Stiles neck where he can feel him breathing increasingly harsher and harsher, the moist hot air caressing his vulnerable throat.  Derek’s turned to stone, his muscles feel like they’ve locked into place and there’s a dangerous tension vibrating in him and it makes Stiles’ belly quiver violently in reaction.

 

They stay like that for the longest time, both unmoving.  Stiles is instinctively aware that if he even so much as breathes the wrong way Derek is going to snap, the lure of enticing the wolf beyond his endurance is an increasingly difficult temptation to resist. 

 

 _‘Derek.’_   He says tentatively in his mind.

_‘Stiles.. don’t say anything please.. just give me a moment.’_   Derek draws in a couple of deep shuddering breaths, then does it again, and again as the tension slowly, slowly eases out of his muscles.

 

 _‘Derek please..’_   Stiles begins and Derek collapses onto him, only just barely able to use his trembling forearms to prop his upper body off Stiles, enough that he can breathe. 

 

 _‘Stiles.  You’re 13 years old and I’m 19.. old enough to know better.. there are places in the world where I’d be stoned or shot for the things we’ve done.. the things I’ve thought.. and I’m not entirely sure I don’t deserve it.’_   He pulls back to look into Stiles’ eyes, his face racked with an emotion that Stiles struggles to decipher.

 

“I’m trying so hard.  I want you to have a proper childhood and friends, to do all the things you should be doing at your age.. I want you to have a normal life where hunters won’t ever hurt you, but.. it’s so hard.. you’re so beautiful and when I’m near you..”  He groans, a long and harsh sound from deep inside him.  “I don’t seem to have any control.”

 

“Just because I’m 13 doesn’t mean I don’t know how to love.. how to be a mate.”  He qualifies.  Stiles lifts his hands places the palms on Derek’s solid shoulders and slides them around to the nape of the older boy’s neck where his fingertips brush against his hairline.  The strands are soft and ticklish against his fingertips and he scrapes his nails against the older boy's scalp.  He quivers above him, a harsh breath escaping Derek’s parted lips.

 

“I’m not just talking about sex Stiles.. a mate can give you strength.. or weaken a wolf.”  He sighs almost wistfully.  “It’s complicated.”

 

“When isn’t it complicated?”  Stiles mutters.  “I’m not talking about sex either.. not that I don’t want to.. I do.. I want to a lot.. in fact lots and lots of times.. only with you..”  Derek puts his hand across Stiles’ mouth.

 

“Please.. have some mercy on me.”  He growls, a self-mocking smile tugs at the corner of his lips, but his eyes smoulder with a banked fire.  “You can’t say things like that to me Stiles.. I can only resist so much.”

 

Stiles shivers every nerve ending on fire.   He wants so badly.  It’s a deep gnawing hunger, Derek’s weight upon him sates only a tiny portion of it.  It goads him into saying, maybe unwisely.

 

“Don’t resist then.”  He whispers the words, before lunging upwards and pressing his mouth fiercely to Derek’s.   He half expects Derek’s mouth to be hard and unyielding, but maybe he’s just as emotional and overwrought as Stiles, because it’s not.  It’s warm and mobile, giving and taking and Stiles is awed that Derek seems to want him just as badly.

 

For one eternal heart stopping minute Derek kisses him back without restraint, his tongue delves deep to rub and suckle Stiles’.  Derek presses his pelvis hard against Stiles.  The friction rubs him so right that he can feel his body go taut as he strains to push back against Derek’s hips. Their mingling growls and groans echo loudly in the warm cocoon of the car’s interior, before Derek’s frantically scrambling away between the seats into the front of the car. 

 

Stiles can only lay there shivering now that the warmth of Derek’s heavy body is no longer covering him.  Goosebumps ripple across his bare chest, so many and so quickly it feels like his skin is trying to jump off his bones.  He hugs himself tightly, arms wrapping around his belly, his cock still hard and contained within his tight cotton boxers which are damp with pre-come.  He hurts with a bone deep ache.

 

He reaches down and grabs the first shirt that his searching fingers happen to find, it’s Derek’s he realises as he pulls it on and finds that it swims on him, the neckline pulling revealing his collarbones and one shoulder.  He doesn’t care though, when he inhales the scent of Derek’s aftershave and his stomach flip flops wildly.

 

Slowly sitting up, Stiles can see that Derek’s sitting in the driver’s seat his forehead resting on the steering wheel.  His back and shoulders are still heaving as he pants loudly, but Stiles’ eyes are riveted by the tattoo that is inked into the skin between his shoulder blades.  It’s a design he’s never seen before but it’s mesmerizing.  The black swirling motif is beautiful and it makes his fingertips itch to touch.

 

With a trembling hand he reaches out between the car seats, his fingers touch Derek’s skin so lightly that he almost thinks he’s not making contact until he sees Derek’s head snap upwards and the defined muscles in his back twitch spasmodically.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek’s voice is hoarse and pleading.  He doesn’t know whether Derek’s begging him to stop or to keep going.

 

“Please.. let me..”  Stiles asks softly.  Derek’s head tips forward, his chin practically resting on his chest as he sits there in surrender.  Stiles traces the swirling pattern with a firmer touch and he can feel the deep rumble of pleasure that vibrates throughout Derek’s body. 

 

“It’s so beautiful.. you are so beautiful..”  Stiles whispers in awe.  Maybe it’s the tone in his voice but Derek turns his head to look at him and his eyes widen when they see Stiles wearing his shirt and before he knows which way is up Derek’s hauled him over the seats into the front with him.  He drags his face along Stiles chest and up his throat to behind his ear where he nuzzles and licks delicately.  Derek gives a big sigh of satisfaction before wrapping his arms around Stiles and just holds him close.

 

“I thought I’d lost you.”  Derek says quietly after the longest time.  There is still hurt in his voice and Stiles vows then and there that if it is in his power to never cause his mate pain again.

 

“No, never.  It was me.. I was stupid and scared.. I didn’t realise..”  He stops, can’t even work it out in his own head just how much Derek means to him.  It’s the expression on Derek’s face as he waits to hear the rest of that sentence that makes Stiles suck it up and continue, it’s a look of such longing it hurts to see.

 

“I didn’t realise that as much as it hurts to say goodbye to you after only a few hours every birthday, they are the best hours of my life.  I can’t give that up.. I can’t give you up.”  He reaches up a trembling hand to touch Derek’s face, stroking gently his cheek and jaw.  Derek sighs softly, sweetly, before grabbing Stiles hand and pressing it tight to his face.

 

“I need you so much.”  Stiles whispers and Derek’s arms tighten.  They don’t have much longer, it’s getting so much lighter outside and soon people will be stirring, leaving their houses and two teenagers in a parked car will draw attention. 

 

“Please Derek.. I love you.. love me.”  He tugs his hand loose and drops it to Derek’s lap and with trembling fingers, as lightly as he brushed over Derek’s tattoo, he runs them over the still hard bulge in Derek’s jeans asking a question.  

 

“Stiles.. I do love you, but I can’t.   Not now.. not yet.”  The tremor in Derek’s voice is reflected in the shaking hands that swoop down and gently tug his hand away from his groin and brings it to his mouth where he kisses Stiles palm in an open-mouthed passionate kiss that inches it’s way to his inner wrist where he suckles the skin hard.  When he pulls back there is a distinct red and purple mark.

 

Derek reaches into his pocket and pulls out two bands of thin fabric.  He holds them in his palm.  Stiles recognises them as friendship bracelets.  They are made of tightly knotted threads of yarn, the colours of blue, red and black and the diamond pattern are the same, twin bracelets except for the stone threaded through at the tie off at the end.  One is a shimmering light green which seems to absorb the colours that surround it, the other is a beautiful dark amber that glows with an inner light.

 

“Happy birthday Stiles.”  Derek pushes the bracelet with the green stone over Stiles’ hand until it wraps around his slender wrist right over where Derek’s left his mark and he ties it in place.

 

“Can you put this one on me please?”  Derek asks holding out his hand.

 

Stiles feels like his eyes are huge, stretched wide in wonder.  There was something almost ceremonial about the way Derek had put the bracelet on him, like it was a sign.. that he was making his claim known to the world.  That he, Stiles Stilinski, was special to him, that he was his.

 

He plucks the amber bracelet from Derek’s hand with twitching almost nerveless fingers before gently cupping the older boy’s hand with his and guiding it to his mouth.  Derek sucks in a sharp breath and Stiles knows that he didn’t anticipate him copying the way he kissed his palm. 

 

Heat radiates from his skin against Stiles mouth and he licks and nips his way from the centre to Derek’s inner wrist.  Stiles can’t help a little moan escaping as he tastes Derek’s flesh, sucking hard against the delicate skin before he releases it panting slightly.  He smiles in satisfaction at the red mark before lifting his gaze to Derek’s face and his insides clench hard and fast when he sees the blazing glow of wolf blue eyes looking back at him.  A red flush stains Derek’s cheeks and his jaw is rigid.

 

Gulping air into lungs that feel suddenly starved of oxygen, he’s almost light headed, Stiles slowly slides the bracelet over Derek’s broad hand which he rests the back of against his chest so he can tie off the ends.  He brushes a last fleeting kiss over the tips of Derek’s fingers which are slightly curled just below his chin, Stiles looks at Derek willing him to know that he’s just been claimed.

 

“Thank you.. it’s beautiful.  I’ll wear it all the time.”  Stiles says with his mouth.  _‘You’re mine now.’_ He says with his soul.

 

“Good.”  Derek says and Stiles isn’t too sure exactly which one he’s responding to.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Stiles' 14th birthday and while he waits for Derek to arrive in the early hours of the morning he remembers what happened at his previous one and how it comes to be that Derek is officially his boyfriend (holy frigging cow - Derek Hale is his boyfriend). Little does Derek know that Stiles has plans for his 14th, plans that involve Stiles, Derek and as few clothes as possible. Happy birthday indeed!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all the people who are reading, commenting and kudoing (is that even a word) maybe leaving kudos instead. You are all so awesome and kind and I love you all. Thanks for sticking by my fic.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - for the usual reasons.

_Stiles’ 14 th birthday.._

 

Stiles fidgets.  Can’t help himself.  He’s so nervous waiting for his boyfriend to arrive ‘coz he’d planned a little surprise for the older boy.  A little sexy surprise. 

 

His smile threatens to crack his face wide open.  Derek, his boyfriend, would be here any minute.  He can’t stop thinking it, boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend.  Who would’ve thought that Stiles Stilinski would have the hottest boyfriend on the planet?  It’s just a shame he can’t tell anyone because he’d be shouting it from the rooftops if he could.

 

‘Suck eggs world ‘coz Derek Hale is mine.’

 

Stiles glances at the clock.  5.15am. 

 

Restless, he idly twists the friendship bracelet that Derek had given him last year, round and round his wrist.  He’s only taken it off to shower, when he’s playing sport and sleeping.  It’s so infinitely precious to him that he would die if anything happened to it. 

 

The green stone reminds him of Derek’s human eyes, how they seem to absorb the colours surrounding him until they are not one colour but all of them.. a kaleidoscope of different shades and tones.

 

He can still remember the look on Derek’s face, the previous year when he’d asked the older boy if the matching bracelets meant that they were boyfriends now?  It looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon, a groove appearing at the bridge of his nose and his mouth thin-lipped and pinched tight.

 

**_“Seriously Stiles.”  Derek groaned as he dragged the black leather jacket from the floor of the back seat and shrugged it on, unfortunately, covering the miracle that is his bare ripped and defined chest and abs.  He’d refused to take back his shirt that Stiles was wearing, saying he quite liked where it was at the moment and it improved Stiles scent no end, overpowering any lingering trace of Scott._ **

****

**_“It’s just that.. never mind.”  Stiles stops and chews on his lower lip._ **

****

**_Derek captures his chin with thumb and forefinger and tilts it up so he can look into Stiles’ eyes, his lids lower before he realises it makes him look like he’s ogling Derek’s groin, and maybe he is it’s definitely ogle-worthy, before flicking them back up to look into green pools that he could drown in._ **

****

**_“What is it baby?”  Derek says softly._ **

****

**_“It’s stupid really.”  Stiles huffs out a breath, trying to suck it up, ‘coz really he’s more mature than that._ **

****

**_“What?  What is it?”_ **

****

**_“I’ve never.. you know…”_ **

****

**_“I know that.”  Derek says huskily before he can go any further.  “You’re a virgin.”_ **

****

**_Stiles blushes furiously, his V-card status is not his favourite topic of discussion.  He knows there are other kids his age at school who’ve ‘done the deed’ but he pities them because when it happens for Stiles, not if mind you definitely when, it will be with the one person he loves more than life._ **

****

**_“No.. not that.. jeez didya have to go there.”  Stiles face feels like it’s on fire, knows that it’s probably red and shiny and oh dear God just shoot him now.  He heaves a big sighing breath trying to calm down._ **

****

**_“Stiles not more than 5 minutes ago you were propositioning me and touching me in places that make me blush and now you’re getting antsy about me calling you a virgin.”  Derek is quirking those devilish eyebrows at him as he tries to understand and all Stiles can do is shrug, he can’t really explain it himself._ **

****

**_“I might have some morals.. somewhere.. lurking.. I dunno.”_ **

****

**_“I’m sorry I interrupted, how about you keep going with what you were going to say.”  Somehow when Derek says ‘sorry’ it really doesn’t sound quite like he’s actually apologising, but the encouraging, slightly puzzled expression he’s got helps Stiles to keep going._ **

****

**_“When I said ‘I’d never’ I meant no one’s ever wanted me to be their boyfriend before.. you know not even in kindergarten..”  Back when it had seemed that everyone was going to marry each other when they grew up, before changing their minds and moving onto someone else all within the space of a day.  Honestly, there was more wife-swapping going on there than on any reality tv show, but for all that no one had ever asked Stiles, no one had ever wanted to be his girlfriend or boyfriend.  Actually not many of them even wanted to just be his friend._ **

****

**_“Before they diagnosed me with ADHD, before I was taking any meds..  I guess.. I guess that’s when it started.  I was a bit out there.. couldn’t control myself.. what I said, what I did.  The other kids steered clear of me.  Except for Scott.”  He sees the rapidly rising quirk of Derek’s eyebrow again.  “I know.. I know but can you imagine it being worse than what it is now.”_ **

****

**_Derek takes a breath and his lips part as if he’s going to say something.  Maybe thinks better of it and simply shrugs._ **

****

**_Stiles hurries on.  “It’s okay though.  I guess we’re.. I’m too old for that now, huh?”_ **

****

**_Derek just looks at him and Stiles feels stripped bare, almost to the bone before the intense scrutiny._ **

****

**_“Stiles.”  He begins.  “There are many things I hope we’ll come to mean to each other over time.. some of them I think we already have..  friend.. saviour.. companion.. defender.. mate.  There are others yet to come, but only when we’re ready.. partner.. other half.. husband..”  Derek pauses for a long moment his eyes fixed on Stiles’ before he says huskily.  “Lover.”_ **

****

**_Stiles’ whole body shudders, ‘lover’.. ‘husband’, Derek’s looking so far forward anticipating that they’ll be together it makes his spirit soar.  He wants all these things so badly but knows that in this Derek’s right, they will become those things when they are ready._ **

****

**_“Right now I think us being boyfriends.. yeah it’s good.”  Derek’s tone becomes deadly serious as he formally says.  “Stiles, will you be my boyfriend?”  Stiles grabs his hand in excitement and a small smile crosses Derek’s face.  “Please.”_ **

****

**_“Really?”  Stiles can’t believe it.  His face feels like it’s going to break he’s smiling so big, so hard._ **

****

**_“Yes.. really.”  Derek lowers his mouth and places the softest, sweetest kiss on his lips and Stiles feels like he could swoon.  Seriously swoon, it’s the most appropriate word he can think of, he feels so light headed._ **

****

**_“Oh yes.. yes.”  He presses his lips back against Derek’s and grabs the lapels of Derek’s black leather jacket and uses it to haul himself closer, there’s no way he could move the muscled older boy.  He can feel the heat radiating from Derek’s abs, it’s seriously scorching against his belly.  He tries to rise up in the passenger seat, tries to use his body weight to press against Derek, wants to lay against him, feel every inch of him against his body._ **

****

**_“Derek.”  He whines, can’t help it because he’s one big ache particularly his cock and balls which just feel permanently swollen.  He’s heard the phrase “blue balls” before and now he knows all too intimately exactly how it feels._ **

****

**_Derek easily fends him off, holding him back and down in the seat, panting heavily as he does._ **

****

**_“Stiles.. please.”_ **

****

**_“If you’re my boyfriend, you’re allowed to do stuff.. uhm.. to me.. with me.. ohh I don’t care just do something, anything.”  He pleads with the older boy.  Derek practically falls out of the car to get away, his eyes are glowing and his fangs are denting his lush lower lip, as Stiles scrambles across the handbrake and into the driver’s seat  where he’s on hands and knees peering out the open car door at him._ **

****

**_“Get out of the car.  I need to walk you back.”  Derek says gruffly, standing as far away as he possibly can, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans._ **

****

**_Stiles sighs, frustration.. desperation tug heavily at him.. at his groin.  He gets out of the car to stand next to Derek, which is when he fully realises that his eyes are now level at Derek’s shoulders. Wow, his Dad had said he’d had a growth spurt but he hadn’t realised just how much until just now.  He looks down at his body, still too slender when compared to the buffness that is Derek’s.  All that lean, taut muscle.. gack.. He starts to cough and splutter.. help he’s choking on his own drool._ **

****

**_“Really Stiles.. drool.”  Derek reaches out a big hand and grabs him by the back of the neck and drags him along, but not before Stiles sees the toothy smile that the wolf doesn’t bother to hide.  Damn, he really needs to put a lock down on his thoughts and feelings, but what the heck, he owes him one.. probably more than one, with what he’s put the other boy through this morning._ **

****

**_“Come on.  Let’s get you back.”  They walk back to the McCall’s house and Derek drops his hand from Stiles’ neck down to his side.  Stiles moves closer, not touching, just letting his hand swing back and forth as he walks, until he syncs with Derek.  His knuckles brush against the back of Derek’s hand, it feels like sparks shoot up the length of his arm.  The quickly indrawn breath that Derek makes proves he’s not immune either.  He snatches up his hand and threads his fingers with Stiles’._ **

****

**_Colour me gobsmacked, Stiles thinks.  He’s walking hand in hand with his boyfriend.  His very, very hot werewolfy boyfriend.  Maybe God didn’t hate him after all or maybe he’d just taken pity on him.  He doesn’t care which, he’s not proud as long as he has Derek._ **

****

**_Derek stops under the large oak tree in the front yard.  It’s still very dark under the broad leafy branches that shelter them from view.  He can’t see Derek’s face at all, just the faint glitter of his eyes._ **

****

**_Now that it’s time to part, Stiles can feel himself start to shake, his hard on forgotten, his sole focus is Derek.  He wonders why it doesn’t get easier, instead it feels ten times worse than the last time.  It’s an agony that rips through him, threatens to shred his heart into ribbons._ **

****

**_Derek cradles his face in gentle hands and dips his head to kiss Stiles’ lips one more time._ **

****

**_“Just a little taste.. before I go.. something to remind me..  Oh Stiles I’m going to miss you.”  Derek presses his lips more urgently, more open against his.  His tongue gently parts Stiles’ lips and they’re kissing, he thinks Derek’s trying to keep it under control but Stiles can’t.. doesn’t want that.  Needs to feel the urgency.. needs to know that Derek’s feeling it too, so he slips his hands beneath the leather jacket finding the hot burning skin of his back and rakes his nails down the length of the older boy’s spine._ **

****

**_Derek arcs his back, a rumbling growl rising from deep in his chest and he’s pushing forwards making Stiles shuffle backwards until he feels the cool rough bark of the oak tree against his back.  Derek crowds up against him until they are pressed together, from shoulder to thigh and everything in between.  Derek lifts his head, eyes rolling wildly their blue glow letting Stiles see his expression.  It’s pained and hungry and desperate, a perfect match for everything he’s feeling._ **

****

**_“God you tempt me.. you have no idea of the things I want to do to you.”  Derek’s voice is low and heated.  His breath puffs against Stiles’ face and it’s cool against the fiery rush of blood that scorches his cheeks._ **

****

**_“Derek.. Derek.  I..”  He promised he was never going to hurt this young man ever again and Stiles sucks it up.  Dragging in a long shuddering breath.  “I wish it was next year already and then the next.. and then the next until I was 18 and you wouldn’t leave me.”_ **

****

**_Derek groans harshly.  “Stiles.. believe me it’s not because I want to leave you.. it’s just safer.. safer for you.. and really that’s all that matters to me knowing that you are out of harm’s way, safe here with your family and friends.”  He’s still pressed tight to Stiles and lowers his head to nuzzle his face lovingly against Stiles face and neck._ **

****

**_“Grow up quickly baby.”  He groans again into the hollow of Stiles’ throat before lifting his mouth to whisper against his ear._ **

****

**_“Next year baby.. I’ll see you next year.  It might not be on your birthday maybe a couple of days later.”_ **

****

**_“What?  Why?  Oh please.. it.. I..”  Stiles stumbles and grinds to a halt.  He can’t explain it, why it’s so important that he sees the boy on the actual day just that it is.  It’s almost a tradition.  A rite along the way to that magical 18._ **

****

**_“Please..”  He begs.  “Please if you can I.. need to see you on the day.  For whatever good thing I’ve done in this life.. something, somewhere has given me you.  You’re my greatest gift Derek.”_ **

****

**_Derek’s frozen in place, simply listening.  His face is a picture of confusion, equal parts hesitancy and pure pleasure at what Stiles’ words mean.  After a long moment, he nods his head._ **

****

**_‘I can do it. It’ll be the end of the cycle.’  The thought slips out and into Stiles’ mind.  He dismisses it though, just pleased to know that next year on his birthday he can expect Derek to be there._ **

****

**_When he enters the house 10 minutes later, he realises that no one has stirred, no one is even aware that Stiles had left and met with his 'BOYFRIEND". Holy frigging cow, Derek Hale is his boyfriend._ **

****

**_It's only when he's in Scott's bathroom letting the hot water run over him as he frantically tugs and pulls at his almost-too-hard-it's-painful cock that when the jets of hot, white fluid erupt and the pleasure threatens to melt his brain it occurs to him that it would really feel oh so much better if Derek was touching him like this._ **

****

**_He had a year.  Surely in that time he can come up with a plan to get Derek touching him in Stiles' extra special happy place and maybe he could do some touching back._ **

****

**_Oh crap, down boy.. down.  Stupid refractory period, if only he had one._ **

 

He glances at the clock again. 5.29am. 

 

He should be here any minute.  Stiles slips off Derek’s shirt that he’d been wearing and pops it back into the ziplock bag that he’d been keeping it in ever since last year and shoves it under the bed.  He’s so pleased, it had held Derek’s scent perfectly, the combination of aftershave and the musk of his body.. his sweat was a delight to his senses and he was sure it had transferred to his own body.

 

Stiles looks down at his bare chest.  He’s been training hard all year, not just lacrosse but doing some weights at the new school gym he was using now that he was a freshman and had moved onto High School.  There were clear lines and grooves starting to form on his chest and down his abdomen, his muscles looking more defined.  He wonders what Derek will think.  Will he approve?

 

Stiles slides his hands to the top of his boxers and hooks his thumbs in under the fabric.  Was he.. could he really do this?  Could he lay in this bed completely naked, ready and waiting for Derek?  His hands tremble and he feels his cock stir, twitching against his groin, as he pictures it.  The only thing he can’t picture is Derek’s reaction.  Knows what he wants it to be but.. Derek has his own set of rules regarding anything intimate between them, which is why Stiles has been researching for the entire year on wolves and their mating and courtship rituals and humans and sex because he wants more.. needs more and he’s pretty sure Derek does to.. just he’s too damn honourable.

 

Stiles had a whole year to plan and with the things he’d read and just the interactions he’d had with Derek over the past couple of years he knows how important scent is to a werewolf.  Which is why he’d worn Derek’s shirt tonight to absorb his scent, so that when Derek got close to him he would be able to smell himself all over Stiles.

 

His other weapon in his arsenal was that he hadn’t changed his sheets for the week and he’d made sure that his happy personal time between his hand and his cock had been pretty darn regular.  Every night in fact and it had been all too easy when he imagined Derek climbing through his bedroom window and..  his window was sliding up.

 

He gulps and snuggles under the covers telling himself there was no time to remove his boxers now because Phase one in his plan to seduce his boyfriend, Derek Hale, was about to begin.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek has arrived for Stiles' 14th birthday, little does the werewolf know that Stiles has been plotting for nearly a year to initiate some closer intimacy between the two of them. Sometimes, the best plans come unstuck from unforeseen events and it is Derek's werewolf nature that shatters Stiles' plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that I have now tagged with Rape/non-con at this point - I don't want to spoiler myself but trust in me that these are my boys and I wouldn't let them hurt or be hurt in relation to this between the two of them - that said I did feel it was necessary to tag it in as a warning for triggers.
> 
> Also, I would like to warn that I've upped the ante again and if you have any issues between a gradually more intimate relationship between a 14 year old and a 20 year old werewolf this may not be the fic for you and I would advise to stop reading now.
> 
> Stiles' 14th birthday has become an epic piece and I've had to break it down into more chapters, the next one will follow as soon as possible.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - I've got nuthin'

Stiles can feel his heart trying to hammer its way out of his chest, he swallows hard and tries to concentrate on his breathing letting the rhythm of his lungs, expanding and contracting, help him regain control ‘coz there’s no way he wants Derek listening to a triphammer.

 

It would be a dead giveaway that something was up and damn if something wasn’t up, his cock was misbehaving badly, was already hard and swollen.  Aching to be touched.  Stiles groans softly, yeah that is so the plan.  He wants Derek to touch him and he wants to touch Derek.. God does he ever.. all over that hard muscled body.. stop it Stilinski and focus.

 

Through slitted eyes he watches as Derek climbs through the window, it’s surprisingly bright behind him, the moon still casting it’s light even though it’s the early hours of the morning.

 

When Derek’s standing inside his room he staggers momentarily.  A flailing hand seeking and finding the stability of Stiles’ study desk. 

 

“Jesus Christ.”  Derek’s voice is a rough rasp.  “What the hell have you been doing in here Stiles?  It stinks of..”  Derek grinds to a halt as Stiles flips back the bed covers, rolling off the bed to walk past him.  Deliberately brushes against the young man who’s apparently turned into a statue, although his eyes follow him, raking the length of his mostly nude body.

 

_‘Sex.. so good smells so good..  smells like mate.. need him..’_

 

Stiles shuts the window, sealing them in.  Hopefully sealing them in with a number of scents that Derek will find hard to resist.  He turns his back to the window and rests his butt against the frame, knowing that the moonlight still shining will illuminate his changed body.

 

Derek’s still not moving but his chest is heaving rapidly and his nostrils flare and twitch as he simply stares at Stiles.  It’s a little bit intimidating, but Stiles isn’t backing down now.  

  


He rests his hands against the window frame on either side of his hips and poses in a studied casual way, letting his arms flex slightly, enough to show the definition that he’s worked so hard for.  He’s like practiced in front of the mirror for over a month and thinks it comes across as fairly natural.

 

_‘Stiles.. God look at him.. so hot.. fuck.. need..want.. fuck fuck..’_

 

“Bit cold.”  He says softly, before he moves one hand to idly scratch at the snail trail that has only recently started to appear.  Derek’s eyes start to glow, they slowly bleed to electric blue as they focus like lasers on where his hand is before raking over his body in an almost physical caress.  They linger the most at the tight clinging black cotton boxers he’s wearing, Stiles knows his hard on is bulging obscenely at the front and feels only the slightest tinge of embarrassment which swiftly turns into outright hunger when he sees Derek lick his lips as he looks at him, before his eyes flicker to his right wrist where the bracelet with the green stone is.

 

“Look at you Stiles..”  Derek growls the words, they sound slightly slurred but Stiles figures that’s more than likely because his heartbeat is thundering so loudly in his ears, it’s distorting everything.  “You’re growing up baby.”

 

_‘Mine.. my mate.. mine mine mine.. so beautiful..’_

 

Pushing off with his hands Stiles walks towards Derek, this year his eyes are level with his chin and he can’t help but smile. 

 

“Told you before, I’ll catch up with you eventually.  Give me a year or so and I’ll be taller than you.”

 

“Huh?”  Derek shakes his head, as he seemingly tries to drag his eyes from Stiles torso and pelvis where he’s been following the gently defined contours of his groin.  Stiles isn’t ripped or anything but he definitely has the beginnings of some abs that show off his lightly muscled lean body.

 

Stiles smirks as he once again brushes against Derek with his body, letting his fingertips trail to caress his forearm through the black leather of his jacket sleeve.  They linger on the bracelet that matches the one that Stiles wears.  Derek’s eyes flutter closed and he draws in a shallow breath before they snap open again, blue flames scald Stiles skin and Derek’s hand locks around Stiles’ wrist.

 

“Stiles.. Stiles..”  He says achingly.  “You smell like me.  How?”  His eyes caress Stiles with what could be almost adoration and it makes something inside Stiles clench fiercely.

 

“If I have my way.. I’ll always smell like you.”  He whispers, voice breaking knowing that Derek can take that statement any which way he likes.  

  


Derek groans, his hand tightens around his wrist and Stiles rolls it within the cuff like grip and then his fingers are wrapped around Derek’s wrist too, as far as they can stretch.  He tugs gently and Derek stumbles after him until Stiles pushes him to sit down on the edge of his bed.

 

Derek looks a little bit dazed, almost drugged.  Stiles worries at his lower lip with his teeth.  It all seems to be going okay, he’s just a little bit concerned that Derek seems almost.. almost out of it.. not like he has on previous visits where he’s always been in control.  Maybe he overdid it a bit with his bedroom smelling like concentrated come, having it closed up tight he’d noticed it himself, that musky scent and he hadn’t been game to let his Dad anywhere near his room afraid that he might ruin it all by demanding that Stiles air it out.  So if it was quite noticeable to Stiles and his very human nose and werewolf noses were particularly sensitive it makes sense that Derek’s probably a bit overwhelmed by it.

 

Stiles sits cross legged in the nest of sheets and blankets, his arm stretched out towards Derek as he hasn’t let go of Stiles’ wrist.  The young man sits slightly turned towards him left foot on the floor, the right leg bent at the knee his thigh and lower leg resting on the bed.  Derek holds Stiles wrist, with the back of his hand resting against the hard muscle of his thigh.  Stiles can feel the warmth of Derek’s body flow into him and his breath hitches.

 

They don’t say anything for the longest time, it’s a little bit unnerving at how intently Derek’s watching him.  His eyes are still glowing blue and if he’s not mistaken he’s a little bit wolfed out too, there’s a hint of fang pressing into his lower lip and his brow.. yeah if he looks closely it’s heavier.

 

“I’m glad you’re here.”  He says, not only because it’s true but to break the silence.  It seems to snap Derek out of whatever trance he’s in.

 

“Yes.. yes uhm..  Happy birthday Stiles.”  Not letting go of Stiles wrist, he reaches into his inside jacket pocket with his other hand and pulls out a small plastic shopping bag. 

 

Stiles gapes at the logo on the bag and is so eager he simply tips the bag upside down and clucks in approval at the items that fall in his lap.

 

There’s a cap, a pen and two sew on badges all marked with the same letters and logo.  FBI.

 

“How did you get these?  You can’t just walk into Quantico and go to the gift shop.”  Stiles is dumbfounded that firstly Derek even remembers that Stiles said that he wants to join the Bureau when he’s older and secondly that he even managed to get the real deal.

 

A broad smile lights up Derek’s face as he sees Stiles pleasure at his gifts, he doesn’t look anywhere as wolfy as he did before and though his eyes are still blue they don’t have the heated intensity that was scorching him earlier.

 

“I have contacts.”  Is all he says cryptically.

 

“Thank you.. I’m amazed.. just thank you.”  Stiles rises to his knees and leans forward and as one hand is still captured by Derek’s, he has to put all his weight on the other.  The best place for it funnily enough is in the triangle formed by Derek’s legs, Stiles feels his breathing get faster as the flat of his hand is pressed to the mattress and there is only a matter of inches between his splayed fingertips and the crotch of Derek’s jeans.

 

He lowers his hips and shoulders so he’s coming in at Derek from a submissive position, hopes that Derek’s wolf will recognise it.  Lifts his head as though he’s going to kiss him, sees Derek’s lips part.. that beautiful, beautiful mouth opening for him and he tilts his head slightly and licks his chin instead.  Derek freezes, a long exhale of air puffs gently out of his mouth.

 

Stiles moans softly against the rasping stubble of his jaw.  The taste of Derek in his mouth, the salt of his skin and the musk of his scent, and he’s swept away by the desire..  the need to lavish all of his attention, all of his focus on the young man in front of him.  All plots and plans that had been running through his head are seemingly gone in that instant.. he’s lost simply in the need to give everything to the older, stronger male before him.

 

Little kitten licks lead into long wet stripes of his tongue up Derek’s neck.  A whine escapes him as he sees that Derek’s eyes are literally cauldrons of blue fire destined to burn him alive.  Heated growls of what he thinks are approval vibrate from deep within Derek’s chest. 

 

He’s sitting so stiffly, so rigid but Stiles has read about this, it’s how the stronger members of the pack respond to those who are submitting.  He maybe submitting but he’s feeling incredibly sexy and powerful while he’s doing it, because Derek’s eyes are eating him alive with want and need.

 

Stiles dips his head down into the hollow of Derek’s throat, where his adam’s apple has bobbed more and more rapidly as he’s swallowed and gulped down air like the room’s being drained of all oxygen, rubs his face against the tense cord of muscle.  Stiles nips and bites along his jawline, licking the flesh after each and every bite soothingly.

 

_‘Want him so bad.. need him.. need him now.. God it hurts.. it hurts.. need to fuck.. mate please..’_

 

His fingers haven’t moved an inch from when he first leant on the mattress, but he can feel the brush of denim against the very tips.  Derek’s not moved either, the only possibility is.. oh fuck.. Stiles glances down at Derek’s groin.  Holy mother of..  Derek’s sporting a bulge that is so big, that is so huge that it’s the reason he can now feel the fabric of Derek’s jeans.  His cock is so swollen that it’s pushed out to encroach on those few separating inches.

 

“Derek..”  He whimpers as his own hard cock, when hasn’t it been hard this morning he wonders, pulses and small bursts of pre-come ooze out of his slit.  It feels so good, but he knows it could be better would be so much better if another hand was touching him.  The front of his boxers are nearly soaked through.

 

“Stiles.. what.. what are you doing?”  Derek’s voice is rough and scratchy, almost bewildered.  His chest is heaving, his nostrils flaring, as he still tries to suck in air desperately.

 

“I’m.. thanking you.”  Stiles whispers.

 

“Haven’t you heard of a handshake or a Hallmark card.”  Derek shudders as Stiles snickers then starts to pepper his lips, jaw and cheeks with soft searching kisses. 

 

“God.. you need to stop.. Stiles stop this.. or I’m.. I’m..”  He groans, he releases Stiles wrist in his struggle to move away.  He’s shimmying back along the bed and Stiles is prowling after him on hands and knees across the mattress.

 

“Derek.. Please..”  He’s begging and doesn’t know what he’s begging for, but from the wild growl that bursts from Derek’s chest he knows and he wants to show Stiles.  Even though he’s growling in encouragement the rest of him shifts away until he gives a yelp and falls off the end of the bed.

 

Stiles hurries to look down from the bed to where Derek’s sprawled on the floor.  A frown marring his perfect features, but it’s not one of anger or hurt, more confusion and lust.   Stiles goes to kneel by his side, but Derek’s scrabbling backwards propelling himself across the room till his back slams into the wall.  He drops his face into his hands.

 

_‘I want you to touch me Derek.. please touch me like I know you want to.. I just need it.. need you so bad..’_

 

“Derek..”  Stiles says his name softly.  Knows that Derek can hear him, but he refuses to look up.  Derek groans rolling onto his hands and knees, before clutching his belly and rocking back and forth.  He’s growling low and keening softly in time with the rocking motion getting louder and louder and faster and faster until..  it stops.

 

Derek collapses to the floor his forehead pressed to the carpet, his claws digging into the woollen fibres.  Stiles rushes to his side his hand resting lightly on his back, right over his tattoo, and he can hear Derek mumbling softly, he lowers his head until it’s right next to the other man’s and it takes him a full second to comprehend the word that he’s whispering over and over in such a tortured hoarse voice.

 

“RUN.”  Stiles jerks back and he can see Derek’s eyes looking at him with an intent that is scalding and he falls backwards on to his ass and drags himself away.  There’s only 8 feet between them and suddenly Stiles feels a change in the atmosphere between them.

Derek pulls himself up into a crouch, his eyes are bluer than he’s ever seen them before, their glow lights up that corner of the room giving it an almost eerie, creepy feel.  It makes Stiles feel like he’s in some kinda horror movie.

 

Derek’s bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and watching every move that Stiles makes with an intensity that is slightly nerve racking.  Derek pulls and tugs at his leather jacket as though he can’t quite work out how he gets it on and off.  His movements are increasingly jerky and frantic until he’s somehow managed to drag it off and throws it to one side.

 

Any other time Stiles would be telling Derek how hot he looks in the button down black shirt, the sleeves rolled  up exposing muscular forearms.  But not now, this isn’t right, there is something seriously wrong. 

 

Stiles can feel his eyes stretch wide as he sees that Derek is visibly shaking as he lifts the back of his hand to his mouth and drags it back and forth, as if he’s trying to sate an itch, a need to do something with his lips and teeth.  He can’t stifle the whimper that escapes him when he sees moonlight glint on dropped fangs, fangs that Derek bites into the fleshy lower part of his thumb and palm as if it can give him some relief from what he really wants to do.  All the time his eyes never leave Stiles and he somehow gets the feeling that Derek’s picturing his fangs penetrating somewhere soft and fleshy on his body.

 

The moonlight on his fangs.  The moonlight.  Stiles flicks a quick glance towards the window.  The moon is hanging low in the early morning sky, but it’s still full and round.  Oh fuck.  He’s an idiot.  If you have a werewolf for a boyfriend the sensible thing to do would be have a moon phase calendar.  Way to go Stilinski.

 

He’d tried to seduce a werewolf on the tail end of a full moon.  No wonder Derek was all sorts of weird.  He’d even tried to see him another day, he remembers that fleeting thought regarding a cycle that had slipped into his brain last year, and he.. selfish bastard that he is had insisted and begged that the older boy still see him. 

 

Which leaves him now with a moonstruck wolf in his bedroom who looks like he can’t decide whether to eat him or sex him up to within an inch of his life.. at this rate there would definitely be inches involved as he looks at the  swollen and bulging front of Derek’s jeans, feels hysterical laughter wanting to bubble forth. 

 

His idea of seduction was still in the minor leagues compared to what he’s facing now.  He’d only wanted more kissing, a hand job if he was lucky and if he was really, really lucky maybe a blow job.  Didn’t care who was the blower and who was the blowee, just wanted to get really close to Derek, closer than what he was allowing.  Looks like he might be getting way more than what he wished for at this rate.

 

“Stiles.”  Derek says his name and it’s gravel coated in molasses, a promise and a threat and Stiles’ heart just about jumps up into his throat, because this isn’t the Derek he knows.  This isn’t the Derek who gives him sweet, soft kisses or holds him tight just because.  This is a primal Derek controlled by his ancient hindbrain, one who only knows his needs and how to sate them and right now he’s starving and he’s looking at Stiles like he’s a nice thick piece of steak, Stilinski prime rib.

 

Oh boy.  He slowly, slowly rises to his feet.  So this is how the deer feels when cornered by the wolf.

 

It’s instinctive the need to get away when you see something that threatens your body and your very soul, Stiles slowly slides one foot back, watching Derek warily.  Derek’s eyes lock onto the movement and he snarls, head tilting to one side as he flashes his fangs.  Stiles’ eyes widen, he doesn’t think that Derek’s ever shown him them at their fullest, they’re easily a couple of inches long and sharp.

 

_‘Derek.. uhm.. maybe we need to take a moment..’_

Derek slowly rises to his feet.  He looks bigger for some reason that Stiles can’t fathom, his jeans are skin tight revealing thick, solid thighs and his shirt looks like the seams are stretching, just barely accommodating his broad shoulders and the bulge of solid biceps.

 

“Stiles get on the bed.”  There’s a tone in his voice that makes Stiles shiver.  It’s full of command and expectation, that Derek will give the orders and that Stiles will follow them to the letter.  There’s a small part of him that thinks being controlled would be kinda hot, but there’s a larger part that simply goes ‘yeah right, so not happening’.

 

Derek growls heatedly and Stiles realises that crap.. crap.. crap.. he’d broadcast that last part via the soul mate connection.  Derek starts to pull his shirt out of where it’s tucked into his jeans and Stiles mouth goes dry, because there is a look in the other man’s eyes that tells him his limit has just been reached.

 

“Get on the bed now.”  He growls, his hands grip his black shirt near the collar and he just yanks it apart, buttons pop and fly off in all directions and material tears.  He starts to stalk towards Stiles whose heart has just exploded in his chest from a wicked combination of fear and desire, because damn it even though his virginity was under serious threat that was the hottest damn thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

 

His shirt tails flap wide open and Stiles can see the column of pale flesh from his belly button just above the buckle of his belt all the way up to the strong lines of his throat.   The flat planes of his firm pecs are topped by dusky pink masculine nipples that are peaked and hard, beckoning for a mouth to lick and suckle them. 

 

The silver belt buckle gleams drawing his eyes to that spot where his jeans dip low at his narrow waist, revealing Derek’s rippling abdomen and the defining line that is the cradle of his hips.  Stiles suspects he might’ve absent-mindedly swallowed his own tongue, the lump in his throat is huge. 

 

This may not be the Derek of his heart and soul but his body sure recognises the hard muscled one in front of him.

 

Stiles has been backing up until he can only do one thing to get away.. he dives across the bed, thinks he’s going to make it to the safety of his bathroom until he feels a large hand wrap around his ankle and his momentum comes to a complete and abrupt stop.  Ooof.  He lands flat on his face on the bed, but all he can feel is the way Derek’s thumb rubs a slow circle on the inside of his ankle bone.

 

He desperately flips over.

 

“Derek please.. I think we need to talk..”  His voice is high and breathy.

 

“Don’t want to talk.”  Derek’s voice is guttural and with one hand clamped around his ankle he savagely rips the remnants of the black shirt off with his other one and he’s standing before Stiles at the side of the bed completely shirtless and Stiles cock throbs with need, not caring that this isn’t the Derek he really wants.

 

The funny thing is that Stiles knows that if Derek does what it looks like he intends to do, he’ll never forgive himself.  When the ‘moon high’ he’s on is over he’ll be devastated and it will all be Stiles’ fault for being such a selfish prick.

 

“Derek don’t..you know you don’t want this.”  If it wasn’t all so deadly serious, Stiles could almost laugh at the look that appears on Derek’s face when he says it, it’s very much along the lines of ‘are you fucking kidding me?’.

 

“Alright.. you want this now.. but later you’ll feel really bad.”  Good God, did he really just say that.

 

“I’ll take my chances ‘cause if I don’t do this.. I’m gonna feel real bad right now.”  Derek growls at him.  He’s so strong, it’s effortless for him to flip Stiles back over and straddle his legs. 

 

Large hot hands roam all over Stiles back, stroking and pushing against his bones as though testing his sturdiness.  Derek grips and pulls his flesh and probes at his muscles until Stiles feels limp, he works his way down to where Stiles’ ass is covered by the cotton boxers. 

 

When Stiles hears the fabric rip and feels the cool air on his skin he panics.  Fucking hell, Derek’s actually going to.. heavy hands rub and knead the cheeks of his ass and it feels good, so good. Who would’ve thought an ass massage would be so stimulating?  His cock is presently trying to burrow into the sheets, smearing pre-come everywhere, in approval.

 

When Derek sits back and pulls his cheeks apart with both thumbs and looks at that most intimate part of him and growls “Pretty.. pretty little hole.. mine..” Stiles thinks that he just may very well have a stroke or a heart attack because surely with the way his poor abused heart is beating so hard, his blood pressure must be though the roof.

 

Stiles is torn.  It’s Derek and it’s not.  If this were Derek in his right mind doing these things to him..  well he’s wanted him for such a long time, but he wants the Derek who chose the bracelet he’s wearing with such care, he wants the Derek who sat pressed to his side and laughed at ‘Blazing Saddles’ and the Derek who drew the pain out of him while he was unaware.  He just wants the Derek he’s fallen in love with.

 

The clink of metal sounds loud in the quiet bedroom, where only the rumbling growls of a werewolf and the high-pitched whines of a human boy echo.  Stiles starts to struggle, knowing that Derek is unbuckling his belt.  His heart threatens to beat right out of his chest when he hears the metallic rasp of a zipper being dragged down.  The mattress shifts under them as Derek tugs off his jeans.

 

“Derek please.. I..”

 

“Ssshhh Stiles.. gonna fuck you now..  gonna feel so good..”  He pulls Stiles’ hips up until he’s got him on all fours and then he wraps the blazing heat of his body around Stiles’.

 

It feels like a long hard hot brand has been placed against him.  It’s Derek’s cock and it’s presently being ground into his ass as the wolf licks and nuzzles the skin of his back and neck.  Over and over at the nape he feels a hot tongue licking the flesh there and he figures he knows where he’s going to be getting that bite.

 

Derek’s hands easily wrap around his body.  Seeking and finding his nipples, pinching and tugging on them the sensation shooting sparks through his nervous system and Stiles’ can’t stop the loud yell that bursts from his mouth, grateful that his Dad isn’t home, he’s staying overnight in LA for a Law Enforcement seminar but will be back in the morning, this morning, for Stiles’ birthday.

 

“That’s it Stiles.. scream for me.”  Derek’s voice is harsh in his ear, hot breath blowing against the sensitive skin there.

 

With one hand he reaches around to drag his fingers down the frantically twitching path of Stiles’ stomach to his hard leaking cock and with the other he slides it up the length of his body, stopping at his long slender throat for one moment and squeezing before continuing up to Stiles parted lips where he thrusts two thick fingers into his mouth.

 

“Suck.”  Derek demands at the same time.  Stiles wails around his fingers.  It’s hotter than anything he’s ever imagined.  Derek’s stroking his cock with firm, sure pulls his fingertips brushing rhythmically against his achingly high balls with every downstroke and all the time he’s grinding what surely must be the biggest cock in history against his ass and demanding that Stiles suck him.

 

Derek’s groaning harshly in his ear.  “Need to fuck you Stiles.. gotta get inside you..gonna fill you with my come..”

 

And that’s it.  Stiles is done, Derek’s hand is stripping his cock from root to tip, the slight twist he does at the end of an upstroke to brush his fingertips across the dripping head sends electric shocks throughout his body.  His groin contracts hard and tight and he’s coming.. he’s coming.. fuck he’s coming all over Derek’s hand. 

 

His body pumps his come out of his body unmercifully, it’s good.. better than good but it’s all so terrible at the same time and Stiles can’t help the shuddering sob that rips out of him as tears well in his eyes and slowly start to drip onto the cotton sheet in front of him. 

 

Most people would say that any orgasm is a good one, but Stiles suspects.. no he knows that if Derek was in his right mind and not mooned out that it would feel different.  They would’ve been connected in more ways than the purely physical one that he’s just experienced and it makes him feel sad at that loss.  Regret tastes like ashes in his mouth, he wishes with his whole heart that he’d not been so impatient, that he’d waited for Derek.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles seduction of Derek has so not gone to plan with Derek still under the influence of the moon and attempting to assault him. When Derek recovers his senses how is he going to cope with the guilt and what echoes of the past has it stirred up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Derek's assault on Stiles is not something I write lightly, but as in most works of fiction it is often the trigger or prompt for other revelations later on in the piece. So please be patient and know that these versions of the characters are precious to me. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed - going solo.

It takes him a moment to realise that Derek’s frozen above him.  He’s still wrapped around him but he’s not moving, he’s so very still.

 

“Stiles?”  Derek’s voice is quiet and shaking, it’s also asking a question.  Stiles cries even harder, it’s Derek.. it’s his Derek.

 

“Stiles what.. why are you crying?”  A shudder ripples through the bigger, older boy.  “Did I.. did I hurt you?”

 

 _‘Derek.. Derek..’_ He can only repeat his name over and over through their bond, can’t speak because his throat is tight with tears.

 

“What have I done?  Oh God.. Stiles.. did I.. did I rape you?”  Stiles turns his head and sees the absolute anguish on Derek’s face.  He rolls over, Derek’s not pinning him in place any longer, and shakes his head no, before wrapping his arms tight around him.

 

_‘No.. no.. you didn’t rape me or hurt me...’_

Derek sits up and looks around, shrinking away from Stiles' embrace, sees the clothes scattered on the bedroom floor.. sees the shredded remnants of Stiles’ underwear and he shivers.  He wipes his come covered hand on the sheet.  Sits on the edge of the bed and drops his head into his hands, burying his face in his palms hard.

 

_‘You tried to get me to stop.. didn’t you?’_

_‘Derek.. please.. it’s okay.. we’re okay.’_

_‘Oh Stiles, it’s not okay.. it’s so not okay..’_   He pauses for a moment.  _‘You’d think that after everything I’d know better.. after Kate.. when she..’_  He stops again and Stiles’ stomach plummets to a depth it had never reached before.

 

“Derek what are you saying.. did Kate..”  He sucks in a stuttering horrified breath.  “Did Kate rape you?”

 

Derek lifts his head from his hands, tears have welled over and hang on his long, long lashes.  There is such sadness and sorrow in his expression that Stiles can feel his heart break into a million pieces.  If he ever has to see such a look on the other man’s face again it will surely be the death of him, because no one should ever have to endure such pain especially Derek.  Never Derek.

 

“She.. we..”  He draws in a breath, starts again. 

 

“It was good at the start.. I thought.. I thought I wanted to.. but it didn’t feel.. it didn’t feel right.”  Derek looks him in the eye.  “It didn’t feel like us.  Didn’t feel like when I’m with you.”  Stiles can feel the slow hot burn of a lone tear roll down his cheek.  What has he done?

 

“She’d uhmm.. she’d chained me down.. said I’d enjoy it and it would make her feel safer in case I uh.. in case I wolfed out.”  Derek wraps his arms around his chest, holding himself tightly, rocking slightly. 

 

“When I said no, to stop.. she laughed said it was just nerves.  I couldn’t move and she kept going and.. and I came.”  He says it so quietly, so shamefully that Stiles starts to move towards him, but Derek holds up his hand before him protectively.

 

“It.. it felt good but it also felt like it had been ripped out of me.  That she didn’t even care that I was there.. that I was nothing..”  His chest heaves and he sucks in ragged breaths.  “Now I’ve done that to you.. and I’m sorry Stiles.. you've no idea..  I’m so sorry.” 

 

“It’s why I’ve tried to wait for you.  I didn’t want you to have regrets.. I wanted you to have that normal childhood that you deserve and to grow up at your own pace, but it’s not been easy.  You tempt me so much.. I’m weak when it comes to you Stiles.”

 

Stiles throws himself against Derek’s back and wraps his arms around his broad shoulders, resting his chin on one.

 

“Don’t.”  Stiles says sharply.  Derek gives him a puzzled look over his shoulder, his hands coming up to hold Stiles arm that is wrapped around him and over his chest. 

 

“Don’t you dare compare yourself to that fucking bitch or I swear I’m gonna do some serious damage.”  Stiles growls out.

 

“You didn’t rape me Derek, but the reason you ‘high mooned’ it is definitely because of me.. it’s my fault.”  He tells Derek exactly what he’s done to bring this upon them both.  Derek shakes his head, denying him the responsibility.

 

“Don’t.. Stiles I knew your birthday fell on the end of a full moon cycle and I still came.. knowing that I’m more sensitive to everything.. I should’ve just stayed away until it was safer.”  He gives a sad, wry smile.  “I can’t stay away from you.”

 

“Yeah that’s why I only see you once a year.”  Stiles huffs out.  “Because you can’t keep away from me.”

 

“I mean it Stiles.  I’ve come to Beacon Hills more times than you know because I can’t NOT come and see you, even if you don’t know I’m here.”

 

“What?  When?”

 

“Your first lacrosse game after you broke your arm, for one.”  Stiles can only stare at him dumbfounded.

 

“I didn’t even play.  I was on the bench for the whole game.” 

 

“But you could’ve and I didn’t want to miss it.”  Derek says quietly.  “Every time for your Mom’s anniversary.. I know you’ve had your Dad, but I needed to be there too for you just in case..”  At the strangled noise that Stiles makes, he asks.  “Have I freaked you out?”

 

“Yes.. no.. I don’t know.”  Stiles can’t believe what he’s hearing.  That Derek’s been around him out of sight was a revelation he didn’t quite know how to deal with.  It’s equal parts creeperish and endearing all at the same time.

 

“No more hiding.  If you’re in Beacon Hills you come and see me whether it’s my birthday or not, no arguments.”

 

Derek nods.  His face is still so sad, that Stiles can’t bear it, he reaches around and cradles Derek’s chin, feels the light stubble and draws his face around to look into his eyes.  Those deep pools of green reveal a soul that’s so tormented that it physically pains Stiles to see it.  He leans forward and presses his lips to Derek’s, not letting him escape when he tries to draw back, chasing his lips to nibble and suck on.

 

“I love you.”  Stiles whispers against his mouth. 

 

“I love you Derek Hale and I want to be with you always, in this life and the next and the next.. and the next.. always with you.”  Stiles looks into those beautiful eyes that have haunted him from the very first moment he saw him.  The green is lighter not so tormented, shot through with silver as the pupil expands as he watches.  He presses his mouth back against his lips, before placing kisses all over his face, on his cheeks, eyes and chin.

 

Derek groans and it makes Stiles’ belly twitch and his cock jerk, it paints a wet stripe on Derek’s spine and the young man trembles in Stiles’ embrace.  His hands drop to his belly, no to his groin and he’s pressing down hard and Stiles finds it’s suddenly a struggle to breathe as he realises that Derek’s trying to hide his cock.  His big, hard cock which he suspects never went away.

 

“Derek.. let me see.. please.”  He whispers the words into Derek’s ear, his lips pressed to the whorls and sensitive rim, brushing against them with warm flesh and hot moist breath, Derek shudders.  With an aching sigh he moves his hands. 

 

Stiles can feel his jaw drop, it’s an unconscious reaction to what he’s seeing.  It’s beautiful.  He almost bursts out laughing at himself, because oh my God he’s practically on the verge of writing a sonnet on how beautiful his werewolf boyfriend’s cock is.

 

He realises that Derek’s watching him closely for any signs of fear or God forbid, insecurity.

 

“Are uhm.. all werewolves blessed like this?”  He chokes out.  Because seriously he’s reached the age where he’s watched a lot of porn on the internet and he’s never seen any of those actors with anything even close to this.  Derek’s cock is big.. all over.  Not just long, nearly the length of his inner forearm, it’s thick, he’s not sure if even his long skinny fingers would wrap around it fully.

 

It maybe big, but it’s beautifully proportioned, uncut so the violently red almost purple head is peeking out through the folds of foreskin and that just cranks something inside Stiles, winds him up real tight.  It maybe a case of penis envy, Derek has a foreskin and he doesn’t and this is the first time he’s seen one this close, wants to touch it real bad.

 

“Derek..”  He croaks.  “Can I?  Please..” 

 

He’s biting his lip so hard, because he’s on the verge of begging, pleading with the older boy and he’s been selfish enough already and doesn’t want to pressure him.  He manages to say reasonably calmly.  “Can I touch you?”

 

As soon as he says it he can see Derek’s cock jerk and pulse slightly and a big bead of pre-come is squeezed out of the purple slit, Derek starts to pant, his chest moving heavily with each breath.  His hips shift restlessly and Stiles can see his thigh muscles, bunch and clench tight.  His hands grip Stiles’ arm harder, but not hurting, where it’s draped across his chest.  Stiles doesn’t realise he’s been holding his breath waiting until he sees Derek nod a very jerky yes, knowing that Derek wouldn’t risk it if he still felt under the moon’s influence, then it rushes out of him in a gasping release.

 

With a trembling hand he reaches down, one finger extended and brushes it lightly over the tip.  Derek groans and his hips jerk.  Stiles looks at him worriedly, afraid of hurting him.

 

“’S okay.”  Derek mumbles.  Red hot colour has flushed over his neck and face, a darker more distinct stripe of colour highlights his nose and cheekbones, even the tips of his ears are crimson.

 

Stiles tries again, brushes his finger over the head again, slightly harder this time.

 

“Oh.. it’s so soft.”  Stiles gently rubs the soft skin between his thumb and finger, plucks at it.  “And stretchy.”  He places the tip of his finger in the opening, nudges the slit and feels the slick glide of pre-come bubble out, he rubs it into the swollen red flesh of the head.

 

“ST.. STILES..”  Derek’s roaring his name as his hips jerk and flex wildly.  “Please.. don’t stop.. and your cock.. need it..”  Derek’s eyes have flashed to electric blue and Stiles suddenly realises that while he’s been touching Derek’s cock, he’s been pressing and grinding his own all-too hard cock into Derek’s back, leaving hot smears of pre-come over his skin.

 

He needs to come, needs to come with Derek right now. 

 

Stiles slithers around Derek’s body, before he even realises what he’s doing.  He’s straddling Derek’s lap facing him, hands gripping the other man’s shoulders as his large, gentle warm hands automatically reach for and hold his hips.  Then.. holy fuck.. their cocks are pressed together.. and they almost bump heads both trying to look down between them to see the way they grind together.  Forehead to forehead, sweat mingling, they watch mesmerized.  Breathing hard and fast, sharing their breath, as their hips move.

 

_‘Stiles.. God baby you are so fucking beautiful.. look at your perfect cock..’_

_‘I.. it’s small.. next to yours..’_   It’s not quite even half the size of Derek’s.  Flushed pink, sleek and hard, thrusting against Derek’s red and purple monster.

 

_‘Stiles you’re still growing and.. oh oh shit.. wait a couple more years.. and.. and.. fuck fuck do that again..’_

Stiles has let go of one of Derek’s shoulders and dropped it into their laps, he wraps it around Derek and wouldn’t you know it.. he’s right his long fingers don’t meet.  Derek’s flesh is scalding and hard and the way his foreskin is pulling back and forth as he’s thrusting into Stiles’ hand is so hot, Stiles feels the tell-tale tingle in his balls that he’s not far off coming.

 

“Here.”  Derek removes one hand from Stiles’ hips and he brushes the palm over the leaking heads of both their cocks smearing the fluid all over.  Gets Stiles to do the same even though it leaves both of them trembling madly.  Helps Stiles form a tunnel between their two hands through which both their cocks can pump in sync together.

 

“Ready.”  He whispers.  Stiles can only nod, his capacity for speech and thought has been eliminated entirely by the raging hormones that have flooded through his system.  They surge forward into the hot tight clasp of their hands.

 

_‘Fuck..’_

_‘Derek..’_

They find a shared rhythm of strokes and Stiles feels like he must have died, there is no way that this pleasure he’s feeling could be found on earth.  He’s in heaven, surely.  His cock’s never been this hard and the feel of Derek’s hand, fingers and palm on it have his eyes practically rolling back in his head it’s just so good.. so intense he wants to scream.  It’s building and building and..

_‘Derek.. I’m gonna.. I’m gonna..’_

_‘Yeah baby.. come all over my cock.. let me feel you.. all over me..’_

_‘Deeerrreeekkk..’_ Stiles screams, he calls out the name of his wolf.. his love with both his physical voice and his metaphysical one, his heart and soul. 

 

He watches through the smallest possible slits of his eyelids, he’s got them so tightly screwed up.  Streaks of white fluid pump into the air and Stiles goes weak as his balls wring out every drop of his come and pours it all over Derek, whose fist is pumping manically his hard furiously red cock, the head is such a dark shade of purple and it looks painful to see.  Derek’s slicked his cock from balls to tip with Stiles’ come and it’s glistening in the dim light, it makes Stiles’ mouth water, it looks so..  lickable.  Exhausted and drained, he can still produce tremors that ripple through his body as he imagines touching it with his tongue.

 

_‘I wanna taste you so bad.. can I?.. Derek please..’_

Derek freezes.  His eyes, which are pure blue flames lock with Stiles’ and he can’t help the need he has to lick his lips and that flicker of tongue is evidently enough for Derek.

 

The roar that comes out of Derek’s chest is so long and loud that Stiles has to hold his hands over his ears, to try and protect them.  He glances at the bedroom window, where morning light shines through, worried that it may shatter.  Derek has collapsed back onto the bed, while Stiles still straddles the bucking bridge of his thighs and hips, his feet firmly planted on the floor.

 

He’s coming and Stiles can feel the skin around his eyes stretch wide at the sight of Derek’s cock so proudly thick and upright, he’s holding it at the base and there are visible rolling waves pulsing through the length about to spurt.  Hot, rich burning white stripes of come shoot into the air, arcing gracefully, to fall back onto Derek’s abs and chest.  They are so powerful that some even reach his neck and chin.

 

Stiles thinks he may as well tell his Dad to cancel their internet service provider because he’s never gonna need to watch another bit of porn in his entire life after this, it’s burnt into his memory.. etched there not with acid but with the hot musk of come and sweat.  He’s mesmerized, can’t drag his eyes away from the picture of Derek sprawled beneath him covered with their come.  He looks so wrecked and it's beautiful.  Stiles has done this, made Derek lose total control and it's intoxicating.  

 

He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring unblinking, until he feels his eyes start to sting in their dried out state.

 

 _‘Derek..’_ Stiles begins tentatively.  Watches Derek’s face, sees his eyelids flutter and realises he’s never seen the wolf so relaxed.  He opens one eye to focus blearily on Stiles’ face.  God.. how does he even ask this, he feels stupid, but he needs to know.

 

 _‘So..uhm.. Derek..’_   Just ask him for Christ’s sake.  _‘That was pretty awesome.. uhh right?’_  

 

He thinks it was the best sex in the history of the entire planet and they didn’t even get to actually do ‘it’ either, but he’s got absolutely no comparison, apart from an encyclopaedic knowledge of the best porn sites on the net which isn’t in the same league as what he’s just experienced.

 

Derek’s frowning at him.  _‘Stiles.. are you asking me if what we just did was good?.. Are you fucking kidding me?’_

_‘Hey virgin here.. ya know.  I’ve got no er.. er.. I’ve got no frame of reference.. no comparison..’_   Feeling really stupid as he’s still perched on Derek’s groin looking down at him where he’s sprawled back boneless on Stiles’ bed, he turns his head to one side biting his lower lip hard.

 

 _‘Stiles.. look at me.. that was amazing.. incredible.. you are amazing I never thought it would be like this.. I’m so lucky to have you..’_  

 

Stiles’ head whips around so fast he almost gives himself whiplash as he sees Derek’s face, he’s lit up with what Stiles can only believe is happiness and there is a look in his eyes that makes Stiles gulp.  It’s a deep devotion, a warmth that is entirely directed at him and he feels his chest tighten at that look, hopes with everything he is that he’s worthy of it.  Worthy of Derek.

 

_‘I just.. I know what I thought.. what I think.. but I.. you’re more experienced and..’_

_‘More experienced.. what because of Kate?.. you know how I feel about that..’_

_‘No.. ‘coz you’ve lived in New York for years now.. and.. and I.. you’re so beautiful.. there must be others who’ve wanted to be with you..’_

 

Stiles grimaces as he feels the tight knot of jealousy screw deep into his belly, twisting his guts.  He’s told himself over the past couple of years to be realistic.  That Derek’s a grown man and he would have certain needs, just as long as he came back for Stiles.

 

 _‘Stiles.. I don’t know what makes you think that.. it was only kissing with Paige and Kate well that was a disaster.. it’s only you.. don’t you know that?’_ Derek’s face is stern as he reaches up and holds Stiles’ chin in place so they can see each other’s expression.

 

_‘You mean.. no one else?’_

_‘No.. not since the first time I met you..’_   Derek sighs sadly.  _‘You probably think I’m some kind of monster.. a pervert.. but, I knew.. knew what you are to me.. my mate and like I’ve told you before.. you’re it for me.. It’s been so hard.. knew I had to wait.. but you’re worth it..’_

_‘Since I was ten.. oh the elevator.. I thought you were ill..’_   Stiles can’t believe what he’s hearing.  That Derek’s been faithful to him since then.  He feels a warmth rise within him, it’s a feeling of pure love and it’s flooding through his entire body.

 

 _‘Er.. Stiles.. did you know you’re glowing..’_   Derek’s eyes are open wide as he watches him. 

 

Stiles lifts his hand before his face and he can see a golden light radiating from his skin.  Instinctively, he places both of his palms on Derek’s chest, pleased to see that he doesn’t flinch away from him.  The love pours out of him and into Derek who gasps, Stiles has no fear of running out, it’s boundless, endless and he will give every ounce to Derek if he needs it. He recognizes whats happening instantly, for this is his spark, this is his legacy from his Mom and he smiles so wide his cheeks ache.  

 

“Stiles.”  Derek’s voice is hoarse with emotion, his eyes are glistening as they caress his features lovingly. ‘You love me that much?” 

 

Stiles can only nod mutely.  Only wants Derek to be whole and well, to be the strong and complete man he knows that is weighed down and buried beneath layers of anger and guilt.  Then he feels it a surging wave of feelings comes back through where his hands are resting on Derek’s chest only this time they belong to Derek and it’s love and longing, the knowledge that Stiles is home and that above anyone else on this earth he offers him his trust. 

 

Stiles collapses onto Derek’s chest and they cling to each other, desperate to slow the clock down before Derek has to go.

 

“I love you.”  Derek says, looking down into Stiles’ face where he’s tilted it up to look at him.

 

“I know.”  Stiles replies confidently, holding all the knowledge and emotions that Derek revealed to him safe, deep within his soul.  He stretches up to run his tongue along Derek’s chin, capturing one of the spurts of Derek’s come that had landed there.  Oh, it’s like nothing he’s tasted before, slightly salty with a wild tang to it, he hums in approval.

 

“You taste good, really good.”

 

“STILES.”  Derek groans.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Stiles 15th birthday and he receives an unexpected visitor in the wee hours of the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go another one that's tripped off my keyboard so nice and easy that I'm almost scared.
> 
> The t-shirt that Stiles is wearing in this chapter is a real one that you can buy online.
> 
> Thank you to those who are reading/commenting etc.. always appreciated - you do wonders for this insecure little fan fic writer.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed - OMG just realised I'm an Omega.

The morning of his 15th birthday Stiles wakes up early.  It’s just getting light outside, enough to see someone sitting on the edge of his bed which makes him jerk back in fear. 

 

The shape is all wrong.. the scent is all wrong.. it’s not Derek.  His first thought is that the hunters have finally found him and through him they’ll find Derek when he gets there.

 

He knows that there’s no point in calling out ‘coz no one would hear him.  His Dad had called him during the night, one of his deputies had been seriously injured, shot in the chest when he’d inadvertently walked into the middle of a convenience store robbery.  He’s a new guy to the Department, still a rookie, and Stiles knows that when it comes to his son or his deputies, that he'll still be at the hospital while he co-ordinates a search for the offender.  

 

He’s on his own.

 

“Kate.”  Loathing makes him spit out her name.

 

“Aww hell no.  Don’t confuse me with that bitch Stiles.”  The voice is feminine and vaguely familiar, like he’s heard it somewhere in a dream.  The figure leans across to the bedside table and switches the lamp on. 

 

Stiles squints, shading his eyes with his hand, momentarily dazzled by the light before his eyes adjust and he sees a face from the past.

 

“Laura.”  Instantly, Stiles is sitting upright and grabbing her arm.  Terror grabs him by the throat and chokes him.

 

“Derek.. he’s alright.. please tell me he’s okay.. is he hurt.. why are you here?.. where’s Derek?”  Stiles knows that he’s babbling but he can’t stop afraid the moment he does that Laura is going to tell him whatever bad news she’s come here to deliver. 

 

“Stiles.  Stiles.”  She covers his hand, where he’s gripping her tightly.  “Derek is okay.  He’s fine.”  She squeezes his hand gently, reassuringly.

 

Stiles can feel his vision blur at the edges and his focus zoom in and out making him feel nauseous.  There’s a muffled thundering sound in his ears and he knows that Laura is talking to him but he can’t hear her properly.  He recognises the signs and with his heart trying to gallop right out of his chest, Stiles knows that he’s having a panic attack.  Hasn’t had one in a while now, the last time he’d been right on the brink when he’d thought Derek had left him for good a couple of years ago, this feels like it’s going to be an absolute doozy.

 

He’s struggling to breathe, lungs feeling like they’re starved of oxygen.  It makes his head feel light like it’s been emptied of all brain matter and stuffed full of cotton wool.  He can feel himself sway, when he suddenly feels something touching his face and his focus shifts to the red lights that flicker right in front of him.

 

 _‘Stiles..’_   Stiles jolts.  A voice in his head that doesn’t belong to Derek.  It’s weird and unnerving and he doesn’t like it one bit. 

 

 _‘Focus.. me Stiles.. look into.. eyes..’_   It’s Laura and it sounds like a radio that’s not been tuned in exactly right on the station.  All crackly and distorted.  But, he tries to do what she says and looks hard at what’s in front of him.

 

His vision slowly, slowly returns to normal and he realises that Laura is sitting close to him, her hands cupping his face, thumbs gently stroking across the planes of his cheeks.  The freakiest thing is that her eyes are glowing.  Not the glacier blue of Derek’s but the crimson of hellfire.  He watches ‘Supernatural’ he knows what red eyes mean, crossroads demon.  Is she a werewolf or a demon?

 

Once he’s fully back and not in the freaking other dimension of a panic attack Laura pulls her hands away from his face and the red glow diminishes to pinpoints in her eyes before disappearing and leaving Stiles looking into large dark brown eyes.  They remind him of the dark bitter chocolate his Dad likes as a reward for sticking to his eating plan.  70% cocoa.

 

She sits back, lifts a hand and gently but firmly slaps him on the cheek.

 

“Don’t do that again.”  Laura’s voice is controlled and authoritative.  “If you have a panic attack in an emergency, whether it’s hunters, rival werewolves who knows, you could cost lives.  More than likely Derek’s because he would never abandon you.”

 

Stiles can feel his eyes are stretched wide as he lifts his hand to his cheek.  It didn’t hurt really, just woke up the nerve endings there with the sting.  He’s listening though, can’t help it.. there’s just something so commanding about her.  All he can do is nod his head letting her know he understands, because Stiles realises that Laura won’t shelter him like Derek does.  She’ll tell him like it is and there’s no way that he’s gonna be the reason Derek gets hurt.  So if he’s gonna be in their world he needs to suck it up.

 

“I thought it was about time we met.”  Slowly she turns her head looking around his bedroom.  Stiles doesn’t think for one minute she misses a thing from the posters of his favourite superheroes on the walls, the pile of textbooks on his desk next to his recharging laptop or the overflowing basket of dirty clothes in the far corner where he dug through the pile to find his favourite t-shirt after deciding maybe it wasn’t that dirty after all.  She’s absorbing it all.  He can see her nostrils flare slightly and he knows that she’s scenting the room and himself too. 

 

Stiles starts to blush remembering that last night he’d had a fifteen minute study break which had involved lube, a box of tissues and a very vivid and accurate memory of Derek and..  woah.. back up.. back up.  Anyway the resulting used tissues were still in the wastebasket by his bed.  He just sighs and gives up, what the heck, his life revolves around werewolves now and if he blushed every time they picked up some embarrassing bodily function or scent from him he was going to be permanently red-faced.

 

“Good boy.”  Laura flicks her head around to look at him.  The long brown hair he remembers has been replaced with a stylish short bob, shaped at the nape of her neck into a concave.  The Hale family were obviously genetic freaks because he’s never seen such gorgeous siblings before.   The shape of her mouth and jawline remind him strongly of Derek.

 

“Sorry?”  He doesn’t understand, why is she praising him?

 

“You’re letting go of your inhibitions around us.  I can hear your heartbeat slowing down, it’s almost normal.  Don’t worry, it took my Aunt Victoria simply ages to get used to us and even after a few years she would still get embarrassed.”  She smiles at the memory, obviously recalling happier times with her family whereas Stiles is stuck with the memory of the Hale family viciously attacking and berating Derek.  The petite blonde had snarled and growled with the best of them even though she was obviously human.

 

“Please.. where is Derek?”  He asks trying to clamp down on his emotions, the ones that want to run right over him and take control so he can lean over and grab her and shake her until she tells him.

 

“Back in New York.”  Stiles heart twists knowing that he won’t see him.  Is Derek breaking up with him?  Did he send his sister to do the deed?  He sucks in a deep shuddering breath and tells himself not to be stupid, because Derek is not like that and he loves Stiles as much as Stiles loves him.

 

Even so he looks down at his hands and thinks when did that happen?  He’s clasped his hands together and they’re clenching so hard and tight that his knuckles are white, there are deep half-moon gouges in his skin spotting with blood from where his blunt human nails have dug deep into his flesh.  He can’t seem to let go, until he sees a delicate feminine hand, tipped with ordinary human nails that are coated in a vibrant red polish, cover his and rub his skin soothingly before unclenching his fingers.

 

“I’m sorry Stiles, but I.. we couldn’t risk letting Derek come here and seeing you.  Particularly after last time.  Moon drunk or not he could’ve seriously hurt you and..”  She turns her head to one side for a brief moment and for the first time Stiles sees a very real fear cross her profiled features as she bites her lip, before she looks back at him.  “And I don’t think Derek could live with himself if he ever hurt you.”

 

Stiles can feel ice form in his veins and knows that his face has uncontrollably spasmed with pain.  He knows what Laura is implying, had felt it himself when he’d looked into green eyes that were filled with torment last year.  That he’d been able to bring Derek back from that edge with his love had been the greatest relief.

 

“He told you about what I did?”  Stiles asks hesitantly, wondering if she despises him for what he put her brother through.

 

“Not at first, but I knew something had happened.  Thought maybe he’d given up this idea to wait for you..”  She hurries on at Stiles gasp.  “Wait for you to grow up, that he’d given in and was feeling guilty.”  She shakes her head in seeming wonder.

 

“Honestly Stiles, I don’t know how he does it.  From everything I know and have seen the need to claim a mate is one of the most powerful urges that a wolf has.  That he’s been able to resist for so long..”  She purses her lips and blows a soft low whistle before shaking her head again.

 

“You’re almost one of the youngest mates that I’ve heard of being found.  There was a wolf from a pack up on the border.  He found his mate when she was five at a gathering of the northern packs.  Thankfully, he had the strength to resist and knocked himself out.. don’t ask.”  Laura says at his quickly indrawn breath.  “They had to lock him up until they could move the family to another state out of harm’s way.  He pined, on the verge of death for the next 13 years until they could meet again, luckily she accepted him.”  She’s thoughtful for a moment her eyes watching him intently.

 

“That he’s been able to visit you without claiming you or harming you it’s pretty much a miracle.”

 

“No.. not a miracle.  Derek’s strong, stronger than that.”  Stiles says, watches as Laura taps a red nail against her front teeth, before nodding in agreement.

 

“Since he met you he’s changed.  Grown up in so many ways, taking responsibility for himself and what he does.  I’m so grateful that you found him Stiles.  I don’t know that he would’ve been able to keep going without you after everything that's happened.  He lives for the times he comes to see you.  The rest of the time he’s almost in a half-life, going through the motions, but when it gets close to your birthday, I see my brother again.  Happy and smiling.  Excited.”

 

Stiles feels a wave of love surge through him for his wolf, God how he misses him.  Doesn’t realise he’s glowing until he hears Laura gasp in shock.  For the first time she doesn’t sound as in control as she has been. 

 

“And then there’s that..”  Laura reaches out a hand towards him letting the golden glow wash over her flesh, doesn’t touch him until he nods his head letting her know it’s okay. 

 

“I thought it would be hot or warm but it’s.. there’s nothing, just a tingling.”  Laura's eyes are wide and her voice is full of wonder as she smiles at him dazzling him with it's intensity.  It's almost child-like, and Stiles knows that before the shit-storm rained down on the Hale family, before Laura became the head by murderous default and had to pull on this mantle of responsibility and tough love she was just a kid.  Just a girl, loved and protected within the shelter of a large family.  Now a family of two.  

 

He doesn't count Peter, because he's still catatonic.  The Hales had moved him back to Beacon Hills after his many surgeries and rehabilitation, but they say there's no chance of recovery now.  It's been too long.

 

Laura lays her hand on his arm and he doesn’t know what she’s seeing or feeling, not like it was with Derek, but she’s smiling, her eyes glisten with tears.

 

“Oh Stiles.. thank you.”  She murmurs softly, her voice cracking.

 

“What for?”

 

“For loving my brother so well.”  She lets go of him and does that thing that girls do to brush away the tears that have welled over, dab pats at her cheeks and under her eyes with her fingertips so she doesn’t smear her makeup. 

 

Stiles can feel the power moving back inside him, to the deepest part of him and lets a long sighing breath escape. It’s happened a few times since that first one with Derek last year.  Usually, when he’s thinking about the other man. 

 

“Whatever you did to him last time Stiles, you’ve changed him.  In more ways than one.”  Laura watches him intently.  “He’s no longer a Beta.  He’s an Alpha like me.”  Laura’s eyes flash crimson.

 

“What?  What do you mean?”  Stiles can’t comprehend what she’s saying.  He knows Derek’s a werewolf but that’s about it.  “Derek’s not told me much and even though I’ve researched myself, there’s no class or course anywhere.. no Werewolves 101.”

 

Laura snorts derisively.  “The crap that’s on the net about us.  Please.  What a joke.”

 

“Okay.  This is the Reader’s Digest version.  There are born wolves like Derek and I.  We were born this way and then there are those who were bitten by an Alpha and the bite turns them into wolves.  It’s a way that an Alpha can maintain or increase the numbers in their pack.”  She pauses to see if Stiles is keeping up with her explanation, he nods encouraging her to keep going.

 

“So an Alpha has a pack which consists of wolves known as Betas.  All werewolves are powerful, but an Alpha has an extra something, extra juice to keep the Betas under control.  Not all born werewolves are Alphas though, nature wouldn’t allow for so many. It's unsustainable.  In my family it was my mother and myself, the rest including Derek were Betas."  Pausing to catch her breath, she looks at Stiles, maybe she's trying to work out if he's going to freak out or not, he's not too sure himself.

 

"There are certain werewolf families that have the ability to change into a full wolf, not just a beta shape.  Ours is one of them.  My Mom could do it and so can I, we were the only ones, Derek can change fully now too.”

 

Laura waves her hand in front of him up and down.

 

“I don’t know what this power is you possess, but Derek is changed now.  He came back and as soon as he walked through the door we knew.  Mainly because he tried to kill me, but that’s because Alpha’s can be really territorial.  We got through it.”  There’s something in her voice that tells Stiles that getting ‘through it’ had in no way been easy.

 

“He’s an Alpha.  Which means he can potentially form his own pack.  He can bite someone and turn them.  Stiles, he could give you the bite.” 

 

Stiles is stunned.  This power Laura says he has it doesn’t feel like anything more than how he experiences it which is love.  It’s just him loving Derek, he simply feels the almost overwhelming need to love, care, protect and sacrifice for Derek.  Nothing more, nothing less.

 

“Derek needs some time to get used to it.  It’s different for him now, before he would look to me as his Alpha and I could ground him, give him something to anchor to.  He’s a little bit lost now.  We always, always have to keep ourselves under control, our senses are so heightened and our emotions.  We can be quick to anger.  Can you imagine what it’s like to worry that you may kill someone for being rude or pushing into you?  That’s sometimes all it takes.”  She shakes her head, her worry is a palpable thing.

 

“When this happened to him, to you both last time did you notice anything.  Anything at all?  It might’ve been insignificant at the time.  A smell, a feeling or sensation?”  Stiles shakes his head, no.  She’s good, he thinks she would make a great addition to the Sheriff’s Department.

 

“I.. I remember when I touched him I wished him to be strong and whole.  Complete."  Laura’s body stiffens as she listens intently to what Stiles is revealing.  “My Mom called it the spark.  That’s all I know.  The only other time I’ve seen something like this is when she died.  This.. this golden light filled her hospital room.”

 

Laura nods her head.  “I remember your mother Stiles.  I met her once when she was going to be our pack’s Emissary.  I was just a kid but she was very nice to me.”

 

They’re both lost in memory for a moment before Laura continues.

 

“I’m going to speak to someone who probably knows a lot more about this sort of stuff than I do and I’m going to arrange for you to see him. Okay?”

 

“Uhmm.. yeah I guess.  Does he know all about..?”  He shapes his hands into claws and pulls his upper lip back to reveal his teeth.

 

“What that you’re an idiot?  I think he’ll figure it out pretty quickly.”  A genuine smile blooms across her face and he sees for the first time exactly how attractive Laura Hale is.  Although he thinks Derek is still the more beautiful of the two.  Laura just seems a lot harder than Derek.  She reaches up and ruffles his hair, almost affectionately. 

 

“His name is Alan Deaton, he’s the local vet and he was my family’s Emissary, so yes he knows.”

 

“You’re kidding me.  Dr Deaton.. my best friend Scott’s just started working for him after school and on weekends.”  Stiles is shocked.  Dr Deaton just seemed so ordinary, nice but ordinary.

 

“Perfect.  It won’t look strange if you go to see them then.”  Her face has become all too serious again. 

 

“Stiles, this is very important.  You can NOT let anyone know what you did for Derek and I mean anyone.  If it got around to the packs, you would have every Alpha-wannabe and rogue lone wolf on your doorstep wanting the Stiles upgrade and a lot of them wouldn’t play nice to get it.  Okay.”

 

“Yeah..yes I got it.”  He repeats when she gives him this look which he knows says ‘take this serious or I’m gonna punch you’.  Satisfied Laura nods her head, the flicked ends of her bob brush against her jaw.

 

She stands up and Stiles being the gentleman he is feels obliged to stand up too.  Mainly because it would just be freaky having her look down at him with her mouth so much like Derek’s.  He sees her lips twitch wildly when she checks out the t-shirt he’s wearing over his sleep pants  “National Lycanthrope Awareness Week – because werewolves are people too.”

 

He’s about half a head taller than her, but he doesn’t doubt that she’s so much tougher than him, more than capable of taking care of herself if she gets into trouble probably because she’ll be the one who starts it.  Maybe, it’s because she looks like she’s just come from the nearest biker bar with the clothes she’s wearing, tight jeans and singlet top beneath a brown short leather jacket which nips in at her waist, from where she’s got it partially zipped at the bottom or maybe it’s just the way she carries herself, the ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude.

 

“God, I almost forgot and he’d get all pissy if I didn’t give it to you.”  She pulls out an envelope from her jacket pocket.  “Happy birthday Stiles.”  He’s hesitant to open it in front of her, it’s from Derek, and he wants to look at it in private and Laura nods her head as if in understanding and just pats his shoulder.

 

“Could you give him something from me please?”  Laura nods and he walks to his wardrobe and pulls down his box of treasures from the top shelf and puts it down on his desk.  Each gift that Derek’s given him has been carefully packed away, except for the bracelet which is on the bedside table because he wears it everyday. 

 

He pulls out a wrapped gift and hopes that Derek likes it.  It’s an old copy of “Catcher in the Rye” that he found at a second hand bookstore, as soon as he saw it he remembered Derek saying it was one of his favourites.  It’s a first edition reprint from the seventies, so it’s got the red carousel horse on the cover like the first one did back in the fifties.  Stiles used the money from his first paycheck as a shelver at the local public library to pay for it.

 

Stiles just hopes that Derek hasn’t already replaced it.  He knows that Derek has been over time, steadily replacing  the books that he lost in the fire that destroyed his family.  Most of them second hand when he can find them.  When he asked him why he didn’t just go out and buy them new he’d smiled almost wistfully and said “there are  some things that can’t be replaced, new for old, and all of mine had been well-loved”.

 

When Stiles looks back at that conversation now he realises that Derek wasn’t just talking about his books and his heart squeezes a bit tighter knowing that Derek still suffers the losses from that fire each and every day.

 

He hands her the wrapped gift and she holds it carefully to her chest.

 

“You don’t know how many times I’ve walked into his room and found him just staring at that chintzy wolf and boy statue you got him.”  Stiles looks into her eyes, for all her trash talk he can see within them her absolute devotion to her younger brother and it eases something deep inside him that had always been worried that even with his last remaining family member Derek would be on his own.  “Now that I’ve met you I can see why.”

 

“And don’t even get me started on that mix cd you made up for him or the fluffy wolf toy.”  She leans forward to whisper confidentially.  “That sits on the end of his bed you know.  My brother the big bad Alpha.”  She snorts.

 

“Can I ask a favour on his behalf?” 

 

Stiles nods his head vigorously.  “Of course.”

 

“He’s had one of your t-shirts for a while now and much as he likes scenting it for you there’s another scent on it that just pisses him off too.  Would you mind..?”  She waves her hand up and down in front of him and Stiles realises she wants his shirt.  The one Derek’s got must be the one he left behind in the rental car a couple of years ago now.

 

Without hesitation he’s pulling it up and over his head and holding it out to her.  She takes it and looks him over, it’s not sexual in any way, more curious.

 

“So fragile.”  She whispers, before folding the shirt carefully around the present.

 

“When will I see him?”  Stiles asks and she’s kind enough to ignore the all too obvious tremor in his voice.

 

“When it’s safe.. for both of you.”  Laura says firmly.  “It took me years to fully get my wolf under control and I had Mom to help me.  We might have to pull him out of Columbia as well, he's had a couple of close calls on campus, not recently mind you, but we’ll just have to monitor how he goes in that type of environment.”

 

Stiles can feel his heart literally sink, it’s so far down it’s practically swimming near his ankles at the moment. Years.. he might not see his wolf for years and the thought that something he did, however inadvertent, might stop Derek from going to University makes him feel sick.  He knows how much Derek loves the English and Comparative Literature course he’s doing there.

 

Laura must see something of the nausea on his face ‘coz he doesn’t think it’s something that he could hide.  She pats his shoulder reassuringly.

 

“He's come a long way in a year already, but he does have an advantage that I didn’t though.  Something to aim for and knowing my brother seeing you again will be all the incentive he needs to get himself in line pretty darn quick, the bonus for him will be if he does it in less time than I did.”  She huffs something under her breath which he barely catches but it makes him smile foolishly.  “He always was a competitive little shit.”

 

Laura turns to go. 

 

“Wait.. one thing how did you speak to me?”  He taps the side of his head.  “I thought that was a mate thing.. you know two souls communicating sorta stuff.”

 

“It is.  You and Derek use that way.  You heard me as an Alpha talking to a pack member, it’s not as easy with a human as it is with another wolf, but you still heard me.” 

 

“A pack..?”  Stiles can feel the furrows form in his forehead as he puzzles that one over.  Laura reaches over and slings her arm around his neck and drags his head down so she can nuzzle and snuffle his hair and ear.  Sighing in what sounds like contentment, Laura gives him a big smacking kiss on the cheek.

 

“Stiles.  You’re family now.  More than that you’re pack.  Our pack.  Get it.” 

 

He got it.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Stiles 16th birthday and there's been nothing. No visit, no communication from either of the Hales and Stiles doesn't know what to think. Little does he know that this birthday is going to be very different from the ones in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am starting to ask myself will we ever see the end in sight. This is Stiles' 16th birthday and there will be more to follow after this chapter. 
> 
> Stiles can drive at this time - because he has a Junior Permit which I think was still in use in this time period in California, I think they may have changed recently. The conditions are very loosely you have no way to get to school, his Dad being on shift work can't always do it, and you must live beyond a certain distance from public transport. Being the Sheriff's son also helped in getting the approval to go through at the DMV. So if he doesn't fit the criteria exactly my bad, but I wanted him to be mobile.
> 
> You may notice some new tags. So please be aware. Xenophilia the love of something foreign, different etc.. which I prefer to use for human/werewolf relations. 
> 
> So, if a human boy and an actual full wolf in an intimate scene puts the 'ick' in your 'squick' please DON'T read. You can skip because it's in the later part. But, if you want to persevere then know that as always I'm a big believer in 'love is love', that no matter who or what you are (insert supernatural creature of choice here) that love is the most important thing.
> 
> My thanks goes as always to such a loyal, thoughtful and enthusiastic group of fellow fans of TW who really get me and the versions of Stiles and Derek in this fic. You are all so awesome.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - because how else could it be.

 

_Stiles’ sixteenth birthday.._

Stiles pulls into the car park of Beacon Hills High and swears long and loud.  He’s running late and has now ended up at the furthest, most remote, parking space on the lot, right up near the tree line and it’s all blasted Derek Hale’s fault.

 

He pulls out his wallet and sits in the driver’s seat for a moment to brood and simply stare at the photo he has tucked in there in front of his junior driver’s permit. 

 

He maybe pissed, but when he smoothes a finger over the image it’s still with tenderness.  It’s what he got for his birthday last year in the envelope that Laura gave him.  Stiles laminated it at work so it wouldn’t get damaged. The image is of the biggest, blackest wolf he’s ever seen standing proudly against a green leafy background, his eyes show up as red and most people would think it’s a redeye flash reflection, but Stiles knows it’s the red of an Alpha werewolf. 

 

It’s Derek in his full wolf form and he’s the most beautiful thing that Stiles has ever seen outside of Derek’s human one.  He’s cleverly made it look like some generic marketing fan photo, the words printed at the bottom of the photo are “Stiles, Thank you for your love and support, Sergei hopes to see you again soon.  Wolf Rescue Centre” there’s even a cute little pawprint next to the text and a simple logo in the corner of a wolf howling above the initials WRC. 

 

It just looks like a neat little marketing tool to encourage donations and support for rescued wolves like Sergei, A.K.A. Derek.  He’s almost tempted to donate it’s so believable.  When did they start having to use aliases and what’s his?  ‘Coz he can think of a number of really cool ones off the top of his head – Logan, Xavier, Cyclops.. just because they happen to be X-men is neither here nor there and not geeky at all.  Really, not at all.

 

So he’s got a photo of his boyfriend in his wallet like millions of other teenagers do, his just happens to be able to turn into a giant black wolf with fangs and claws and.. his life is really just too weird.

 

Stiles can brood with the best of them without too much effort because he’s 15.. wait no 16 and doesn’t he have just cause today.  It’s his birthday and everybody knows that on his birthday he gets a visit from his ‘way-too-hot-for-Stiles’-own-good boyfriend’.  Well everybody would know if he could tell them and if he could tell them he’d make a special announcement over the school’s PA system to ensure nobody missed out on that news.

 

Even Laura, the headlock queen, would’ve been a welcome sight.  He’d been expecting Derek to come because he’d not heard or seen anything to say he wasn’t.  But, had he received a message - a text, a phone call, a carrier pigeon.  No.  Not a thing.  How hard was it to say ‘hey it’s your birthday, sorry I can’t be there’?  He’d checked his emergency mobile that many times, if he saw the ‘no messages’ message again he was going to spontaneously combust. 

 

So he’d waited and waited and then waited some more until his Dad was knocking at his bedroom door telling him it was about time he got going.  And now he was late.. thank you ever so much Mr Hale.

 

He climbs out of his jeep slinging his backpack over one shoulder and locks the door, although he doesn’t know why ‘coz really who’d want his blue beast, but his Dad had drummed into him about insurance claims being denied because of thoughtless people who didn’t secure their cars and are you listening to me Stiles I’m trying to help you.. Yeah he might’ve dozed off at one point during that conversation.. discussion.. lecture.

 

Walking through the car park he can’t help but shiver.  What if it’s something else though?  What if hunters of the Kate variety had found Derek and Laura?  He’s tried to focus on his anger, maintain the rage, and the idea that his boyfriend is just jerking him around, but the niggling thought that the remaining Hales have ended up in some kinda trouble makes him feel sick.

 

It’s a lot later than when he normally arrives so everywhere just feels jammed with people and he’s being bumped into front, back and sides.  It puts his teeth on edge.  Still he makes it to his locker and waiting patiently is Scott.

 

“Hey bro.. thought you weren’t gonna make it.  Happy birthday Stiles.”  He wraps an arm around Stiles shoulders and draws him into a one-armed hug.

 

“Thanks Scottster.. just running late.”  He starts to enter his locker combination, there’s a sweet perfume assailing his senses.  It’s beautiful, sorta like Springtime, Stiles glances around trying to find the source.

 

“Wow.. can you smell that?”  Stiles asks Scott.  Who just shrugs.

 

“We still on for tonight then?”  At Stiles’ nod, Scott continues, smiling widely.  “I’ll be around about 6 then.  Prepare to meet your doom and just ‘coz it’s your birthday don’t think I won’t put you down.  No mercy.  Halo is on.” 

 

Stiles enters the last number of his combination, opens the door and his locker explodes. 

 

Stiles gets hit on the nose as something falls out, a whole lot of somethings, until he’s swamped.  He bats his arms around because what the fuck..  He’s being assaulted by.. by.. flowers.  The avalanche eventually stops and he looks down at his feet, he is knee-deep in roses.  Red roses are everywhere.  He looks back into his locker and one more bud decides to throw itself at him and the stem hits him right between the eyes.  Oww.  He rubs the bridge of his nose, thank God, they all seem to have had the thorns removed.

 

“What the hell?”  He says aloud and he jumps when his voice practically comes echoing back at him.

 

That’s when he realises that the hallway that had been buzzing with noise only a few seconds ago was now deathly silent.  He glances over his shoulder and can see not only Scott, but what seems like the entire school staring at him.  Stiles feels a flaming rush of heat blaze up his neck and face until he’s 99.9% positive that even the ends of his hair are blushing furiously if not already on fire. 

 

In the silence he hears the click of heels against the hard floor.  Lydia Martin, the Queen Bee of BHHS, long may she reign, stops in front of him with her consort Jackson in tow.  She looks over the entire scene and everyone in the hallway holds their breath, knowing that she can annihilate a person with a word.

 

“Looks like you got an admirer uhh.. whoever you are.  You’re a lucky guy, they’re very creative, unlike others I could name.”  She sniffs and flicks a haughty glance at Jackson who visibly flinches as she saunters off.  And just like that Stiles can breathe again because she’s given her seal of approval and it means that he’ll be the focus of envy rather than taunts.

 

“Mis-tah Stilinski.”  Great, he recognises that drawn out play on his name.  Mr Harris, his archenemy of the chemistry lab and High School life in general has a single mission, to catch Stiles out whenever, wherever he can.  It’s like magic, all the noise and hustle and bustle resumes again.  No one wants to get caught on Harris’ radar.

 

“You will pick up every single flower and bin them are we clear.”  Stiles nods in agreement in the face of Harris’ wagging finger.  “And I’ll see you in detention after school.”  He starts to walk away down the hallway.

 

“But.. but this wasn’t me I didn’t do this.”  Stiles stutters in disbelief, then lifts his hands in surrender as Harris starts to turn back, knowing that one detention can rapidly extend to two or three with this douchebag.  A satisfied smirk on his face, knowing that he’s won, Harris walks away for the second time.  “Oh come on, give me a break you slimy, little..”   He puffs out a big breath, trying to rein his temper in.

 

“Scott can you give me a hand, we’ll carry them out to my car.”  There’s no way he’s binning these flowers.  They are for him not for Harris to dispose of ‘coz he feels like jerking Stiles around.  Scott’s just gaping at him as he takes in the sea of flowers that surrounds Stiles, but he starts to gather them up.  It’s not until they get to the car park that Scott, struggling to see over the great pile that he carries, asks the question that’s obviously been bugging him.

 

“Who did this?”  His eyes are puzzled as he’s obviously racking his brain for possibilities.  Stiles can see it when he comes to a dead end, his mouth just sags open in furious thought.  He doesn’t know whether to be insulted or relieved.

 

“Dude, I don’t know.  Maybe, Lydia’s right.  I must have an admirer.”  Scott still nods his head in bewilderment.  Stiles' is lying through his teeth ‘coz he knows who did this, there was a card in his locker as well, that he’s managed to secret away in his pocket until he can read it in privacy. 

 

As much embarrassment as it caused him, there’s a glowing warmth in his chest and a broad smile on his face.  This is the first public display of affection and intent that Derek’s ever made and it’s cheesy and sweet and wonderful all at the same time.  It may have cost him a detention, he dips his head down into the armful he carries and draws in the scent.  He doesn’t care, he smiles dazedly, he really, absolutely doesn’t care.

 

Finally, after Scott’s hurried off to his first period class and Stiles is seated at a table at the back of the school library for his free study period he pulls the envelope out of his pocket. 

 

Away from prying eyes, he slides his finger along the flap of the envelope.  It’s a birthday card.  A sweet sixteen one.. yep it actually says the words on the front, with a giant glittery number 16 and Stiles is blushing like mad and can’t really figure out why. 

 

It’s the inference maybe, particularly after the dozens and dozens of red roses, that he’s still a virgin and Derek’s decided he’s old enough to start ‘courting’ him, an old fashioned term certainly, but sweet and appropriate, while waiting for him to be old enough.  He swallows hard.  He’s so ready to be courted and wooed that he’s about to burst.  More wooing is definitely needed.

 

Anyway 16 it’s a definite turning point in a person’s life and only 2 more years to the all-important one when he and Derek can.. until he’s of age and he and Derek.. jeez one track mind or what.  He sucks in a harsh breath.  Right stopping that train of thought right now.. right now.. damn it right now.  With trembling hands he opens the card and reads what’s written inside.

 

Happy 16th birthday Stiles – meet me by your car after school, D.

 

Well that was wildly romantic.  NOT.  Then he reads it again.

 

Fuck.  He’s going to see Derek today and his stomach twists wildly into knots.  How the hell is he going to get through the rest of the day.  When he goes to slip the card back into the envelope he realises there’s something else inside, it’s a photo with a sticky note attached.

 

‘Happy Birthday pup, here’s a better photo for you. L xx  PS. he doesn’t know I’ve slipped it in, you can show him if you like, in fact I encourage it.’

 

Stiles lifts off the sticky note and looks at the photo and starts to laugh.  It’s the same one he’s got in his wallet but Laura is obviously fairly skilled with a computer and photoshop.

 

This black wolf has a tight pink t-shirt on that says “I need a hug” and his eyes are big love hearts on springs like you see in the cartoons.  A long red tongue hangs out the side of his muzzle and a big fat cherub hangs over his head smiling smugly at the arrow sticking out of the wolf’s ass.  Written underneath in white block letters, ‘I howl when I’m horny’.

 

Stiles clamps a hand over his mouth as he snickers hard.  He thinks he’s maybe starting to fall in love with Laura Hale.

 

 

Stiles has obviously been caught in some diabolical time slip, because the whole day drags painfully.  Eventually, he makes it through to detention and he knows it normally finishes at 4 and it’s 4.05 right now, but he’s learnt the hard way not to say anything because Harris is enough of a bastard to drag it out even further.  However, it looks like 5 extra minutes is enough even for Harris on a Friday afternoon when he says. “You can go Stilinski.” 

 

Maybe he has a date. 

 

With Satan. 

 

To compare notes.

 

Stiles gathers up his math book and slings his gear into the backpack and rushes out the door with not even a glance at the teacher.  At least he doesn’t have any homework left to do now, he’s got a whole free weekend because he alternates Saturday mornings working at the public library and this is his non-rostered one and he’s meeting his hotter than hot werewolf boyfriend.

 

Life is so fucking good.

 

He’s practically running out the door and across the empty car park except for his lone jeep in the far corner.  Stiles stops when he reaches it, his lips pursing as he breathes hard and fast.  There’s no one here. 

 

He unlocks the door and throws his bag inside before standing next to the blue beast and looking in all directions for a hunk in a black leather jacket to appear.  The seconds tick by and he’s starting to feel disappointment well up within him.  Is he too late?  Did Derek have to leave?  As he’s thinking those thoughts he hears a rustling from behind him.

 

There’s a patch of grass and a screen of bushes that separate the carpark from the tall trees of the woods it backs onto.  It’s these bushes that are moving and rustling.  Stiles can feel his heart shift to his throat as panic starts to rise.  He’s not gonna be one of those idiot teens in a horror flick who calls out ‘hello’ or ‘who’s there?’ because they always end up dead.  It’s some sort of rule, he’s sure it has to do with the theory of natural selection or they are just TSTL – too stupid to live.

 

He’s just gonna get into his car and drive away, holds the keys tighter ‘coz that’s the other cliché that they always end up dropping the keys.. the keys to the car, to the house it doesn’t matter what keys they are.. they always get dropped.  He starts to back up and then.. Holy Harry Potter.. the bushes finally part and a big.. and he means big black dog pushes through.

 

It’s eyes flash red and Stiles knows.

 

“Derek.”  He whispers, feeling his heart wrench painfully in his chest.  He’s here.. he’s here.  Finally.

 

Derek takes a few steps across the space that separates them.  When he stops, Stiles can see his head is about level with the bottom of Stiles’ ribcage.  He’s huge and if Stiles didn’t know it was Derek he’d be terrified.  He can’t speak, he’s so overcome.  Then he hears a tentative whine as if Derek’s not sure of what welcome he’s going to get.  Two years.  It’s been two years since he’s seen the love of his life and he doesn’t care if he’s not human right now, doesn’t care that he’s a wolf, Derek could be a fucking armadillo and he’d still love him.

 

“Derek.”  Stiles’ voice is thick and harsh with emotion and then he’s moving forward and he throws himself at Derek, wrapping his arms around the huge wolf.  Burying his face deep into the thick ruff of fur at his neck, breathing in his wild tangy scent, and if maybe he uses it to brush away some tears that have welled up he’s not telling.  Derek sits on his haunches and Stiles drops to his knees, can feel his large wolf head drape over his shoulder and rest against his back, tucking him into the wolf’s deep chest.  It’s a mutual hug and they don’t move for the longest time until Stiles can feel his back stiffen and his knees start to ache.

 

He sits back on his heels and holds the wolf’s head in front of him and looks into those eyes that are no longer red but are the translucent green that have haunted his dreams for the past two years.

 

“I’ve missed you so much.”  He says brokenly.  The wolf whines and gives him a hot wet lick up the side of his neck.  Surprisingly it’s not gross, it’s kinda hot, because it’s Derek.

 

_‘Stiles.. mate..’_

He gets a fleeting impression, a visual in his head, of his smaller body being covered by the large wolf from behind which makes him blush, because it’s Derek and.. and it’s making his groin tingle.  That’s when Stiles starts to freak out.  Can this really be happening?  A dog.. beg pardon.. a wolf is talking to him, mind to mind, and sending him wolf porn images and they’re turning him on.  Surely he’s had weirder stuff happen to him since he first came to know that werewolves exist.  He racks his brain.  Nuh uh.  This is definitely topping the list at the moment.

 

“So you gonna change so I can give you a proper kiss?”  Stiles asks huskily and the wolf gives a pained whine as it shakes it’s head, an all too obvious ‘no’.

 

“Oh.”  He’s taken aback for a moment.  Chews on his bottom lip thinking.  “Is this some kinda Alpha-in-control test?”

 

Derek huffs in agreement before giving Stiles another swiping lick up the side of his face.  An image of Laura’s face pops into Stiles’ head.

 

“This is Laura’s idea?”  Stiles asks and Derek chuffs again in assent.  “Great.  Wait till I see her next time.”

 

_‘Soon..’_

 

Stiles is kinda pleased at that idea, he’s starting to get attached to Derek’s sister.  “So how long can you stay?” 

 

 _‘Two..’_   In this form Derek’s even less verbose than usual and what Stiles is picking up from their connection isn’t just a voice in his head or feelings, it’s more primal and less sophisticated using basic words.  There is more visual imagery and information from his senses like touch, taste etc.. in the communication.  So when he pictures two moons interspersed by two suns, he’s pretty sure that Derek’s telling him two days.

 

“Two days.”  He asks and Derek chuffs in agreement.

 

“Oh my God.  I get you for two whole days.”  Stiles feels like his skin is about to burst he’s filled with such excitement which the wolf easily detects.  Derek whines, his tail wagging, brushing against the ground back and forth and isn’t that just the cutest thing. 

 

“Oh you are just so cute.”  He starts to run his hands all over Derek, letting the surprisingly soft fur slide between his fingers and feels the wolf shiver.  He reaches up to his massive head and scratches around the base of one ear and feels the wolf lean into his hand, Derek’s eyes narrow in obvious pleasure. 

 

“Aww is dah big doggie wanting a scratch.. gonna scratch your belly.. yes I am.. does Dereky-wereky want his ickle lickle belly scratched?”

 

Derek lifts his front paws up, his weight solely on his back haunches.  One giant paw lands on Stiles’ shoulder for balance the other massive one is planted square in his face, not painful, but he pushes hard as he gives a low grumbling growl.

 

_‘Stop it..’_

Having a paw the size of a dinner plate land smack dab on his mush has Stiles rocking back and he can’t help but grin at the big black wolf that is looking down at him haughtily.

 

“You don’t mean that.”  He reaches up and starts to scratch and rub on Derek’s breastbone and the wolf quickly drops both front paws to the ground.  As Stiles scratches he can hear Derek whine in pleasure and knows that he’s enjoying the attention.  Stiles may not have had a pet dog in his life before but he’s seen snippets of “The dog whisperer” online so he knows the good spots to scratch.  Derek tilts his head, his jaw lifting higher and higher as he leans harder and harder into Stiles scratching fingers, his back legs quivering.  Suddenly, Stiles stops.  Moving his hands away so quickly that Derek almost falls over.

 

“But, maybe you do.  I’ll stop now okay.”  Stiles holds his hands up in the air as he tries not to laugh out loud at the obviously chagrined look on the wolf’s face.  Derek snorts, before moving forward and using his considerable body weight advantage to simply send Stiles sprawling back on the grass. 

 

_‘No tease..’_

 

Before Stiles knows what’s happening he’s got a big black wolf above him, all four legs straddling his body and red eyes glowing heatedly at him.  He doesn’t know whether it’s pure instinct in the presence of a dominant Alpha or a remnant of the research he did for that disastrous attempt to seduce Derek, but Stiles tilts his head exposing the vulnerable length of his throat. 

 

A low rumble of approval vibrates throughout Derek and he lowers his head, his wide gaping jaws, sharp teeth and fangs latch onto his throat.  Hot breath washes over Stiles’ neck and it’s stimulating not just the physicality of it but the psychological one as well.. being in such a vulnerable position..  does things for Stiles that he wasn’t even aware were in him.  Didn’t think it was part of his DNA.. but the wolf is opening his eyes.

 

_‘My mate..’_

 

Stiles groans, he can feel Derek’s hot tongue move against his throat every time the wolf swallows, his fangs are pressing into his skin, indenting into the flesh and it’s only by Derek’s good will that he’s not tearing and rending his fragile body. 

 

Stiles has been wound up all day, imagining his reunion with Derek..  this wasn’t one of the scenarios that had been playing out in his head admittedly, most of them pornographic, but.. fucking hell..  being at Derek’s mercy.. he’s gotten so hard his cock feels like it’s ready to burst, a low throb that starts deep in his balls and runs the length of his aching dick. 

 

_‘Derek... you feel so good.. need you..’_

 

Derek’s eyes are blazing the crimson fire of his Alpha-hood and he ever so slowly releases his hold on Stiles’ throat, before proceeding to lavish sweeping licks with a tongue that is both long and agile over his neck and ears.  Swirling into the whorls of his ear, soft low growls vibrate through his chest and throat and Stiles can feel the vibration in the tip of Derek’s tongue as it dips in and it’s too much and not enough and Stiles is coming..  His hips jolt and buck as he arcs his back.  He didn’t even need to touch himself and..

 

Fuck he’s coming so hard he’s seeing stars.. his cock throbbing and pulsing as it spurts out hot come trapping it within his pants.  Derek shuffles back obviously scenting him with the way his muzzle is pressed hard against Stiles body and inhaling deeply.  When he reaches Stiles’ groin he whines and keens before pushing his nose against the exposed skin of Stiles’ belly, his t-shirt having rucked up with his bucking and arching.

 

Stiles shivers as he feels Derek’s long tongue start to lick his belly which has hollowed out slightly between his hipbones from lying flat on his back and there’s enough room for Derek to push his tongue into Stiles pants and damn if he doesn’t feel his balls spasm again.  He can feel that long snaking tongue dip into the pool of come that’s in his pants and fuck.. fuck.. that just winds something in Stiles tight as a spring.  With trembling hands he frantically pulls and tugs on the button and zipper of his pants shivering uncontrollably when he finally exposes his wet underwear to the air. 

 

_‘Mate smell.. good..’_

 

Derek presses his nose against the damp fabric and keens softly, longingly.  His hot panting breath seeps through the cotton and it makes Stiles twitch.  Too many sensations happening down there.  His all too sensitive cock, the pool of come rapidly cooling and the heat and pressure of Derek’s muzzle pressing against him. 

 

It doesn’t stop him from tugging the waist band of his cotton boxers down and snugging them under his balls though.  From Stiles perspective lying on his back and looking down the length of his body, his flushed cock and tight balls are propped up high, almost like an offering to the black wolf who looks at his groin and the slick fluid that coats it with burning crimson eyes and licks his lips.

 

Derek holds his eyes as he lowers his head, hot breath fanning the nest of damp hair at Stiles’ groin making him tremble.  The wolf parts his muzzle, fangs flash ivory white and his tongue is red and wet.  Stiles can’t believe how much he likes this edge of danger as Derek holds his cock and balls by his fangs. He can feel a coil of heat and tension tighten low in his belly.  Derek’s lips are curled back and  Stiles can see the dents that his fangs are making on the length of his cock and can only imagine how it looks having his lower canines pressing against the sensitive flesh of his balls.

 

“Derek.. please..”  Stiles pushes the merest fraction into the fangs that hold him in place and those little pinpricks of pain feel so good he moans.  It all comes down to trust.  Stiles trusts Derek with his life, his body and his love.  The first time he’d ever seen him, back in that hospital bed six years ago, Stiles can still remember thinking that Derek’s hands would never be used to hurt him, only to cherish and protect him.  That feeling, that knowing of what makes Derek who he is, has never changed.

 

Derek releases his hold abruptly as though he knows that Stiles is going to start rocking against him and he can’t guarantee Stiles’ dick and balls safety when his sharp fangs are in the vicinity.  It’s so hot and Derek’s in such control that Stiles can only lay there and cant his hips higher wanting that tongue on his most intimate flesh. 

 

“Please.. Derek, lick me.. please..”

 

It’s as though his permission is what Derek’s been waiting for as Stiles’ cock, balls and groin are lashed unmercifully by the long hot tongue that laps and licks.  Stiles’ cock starts to swell again and the sensation of wet heat agilely running up and down its length, curling slightly around the head to lap and probe at his slit where pre-come is oozing, it’s so good.. so good that he fists his hands into Derek’s ruff and holds on tight needing something to anchor him.

 

_‘Sweet.. mate sweet..’_

 

The rasp of Derek’s wolf tongue sends frissons of electricity surging throughout his nervous system, the pleasure nodes overstimulated and overworked.  Stiles realises dazedly that the frantic high pitched ‘huh huh’ he can hear is coming from his own heaving chest and tight throat with every sweeping lick.

 

_‘I love you Derek.. I love you.. love you.. love..’_

_‘Love Stiles..love mate..always..’_

 

When Derek curls his tongue under Stiles balls and drags it over them with a firm pressure that he maintains all the way up Stiles flushed pink, hard cock to hit the bundle of nerves at the base of the head Stiles howls as if he’s the wolf and comes for a second time.  A split second later Derek joins him, with a louder, authentic version, their twin howls of ecstasy rising into the late afternoon sky.  Weak spurting jets of hot white fluid streaks cover his belly once again.  Derek collapses, his great furry weight shuddering on top of Stiles’ legs pinning him there, the wolf pants heavily as he stretches out his front paw so it rests on Stiles’ chest.  A clear command to stay put.

 

With long languid strokes Derek seems to be on a personal quest to lick and nuzzle every inch of the exposed skin of his groin twice over.  The same tongue that had generated such scorching heat in his body to the point of orgasm is now gentle and soothing as he cleans him, cares for him.  Over and over. 

 

It’s too much, too intense and Stiles can’t bear it, he has to push at the wolf’s head to get him to back off, even though Derek’s obviously very reluctant as he licks his own lips, savouring the taste of his mate.

 

Eventually, Derek lets Stiles sit up.  He’s sitting in between Stiles’ sprawled legs with his head hanging low so he can press his face against his, but not before Stiles has seen the quivering ember red tip of Derek’s cock poking out of his sheath.  There’s glistening fluid on it and with the wet patch on his pants leg, way down near his shin, Stiles feels a shudder race through his body as he realises that Derek came while he was licking him.

 

“I guess you missed me too.”  Stiles murmurs softly.  Amber eyes meeting kaleidoscope green. 

 

 _‘Lonely..’_   The whine that accompanies the thought is pain filled and Stiles runs a hand down Derek’s side letting the soft fur slide through his fingers and caress his palm trying to soothe his wolf.

 

“Yeah.. it is.”  Stiles straightens his clothes, tucking himself back in and refastening his pants.  Getting to his feet is a struggle, because he feels weak.. boneless from the pleasure that Derek’s wrung out of him.  He manages it though, even if it’s more of a stagger than a proper walk as he moves to his jeep.

 

“Come on Derek, let’s go home.”  He aches inside as the fiercest hunger wells up inside him.  It’s not a hunger for the physical, it’s a need that is purely emotional.

 

They are the words he wants to say every day for the rest of his life to his wolf and from Derek’s expressive green eyes that lighten visibly as Stiles says them, the feeling is mutual.

 

_‘Stiles.. home.’_


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles takes Derek home with him where the wolf gives him a new perspective on the past with some very interesting revelations on Derek's feelings towards him when they first met all those years ago. Derek encounters the Sheriff and his gun in the Stilinski kitchen when they first meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear with me - more feels and reveals in this chapter, but the end game is in sight not sure how many chapters it will take to get there. I'm pretty sure I know where this is all heading now, unless those pesky boys change course on me as I write - which has been known to happen.
> 
> Thank you for the support - you are all amazing.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - it's the norm

Driving down the road back to his house, Stiles’ junior permit only allows him to drive between home and school and home and work, Stiles looks across at Derek in the passenger seat.

 

It may be a canine cliché, but Derek’s got his head hanging out the window, his ears flat to his head, black fur rippling along with his tongue flapping and fluttering in the breeze. 

 

His eyes, squinting against the wind, dart avidly taking everything in as they drive from the High School near the woods and through the centre of town.  He chuffs excitedly every now and then when something catches his interest whether it’s visual or a scent in the air. 

 

Stiles isn’t sure that Derek’s even aware he’s doing it but he’s giving a running commentary through their bond which is equal parts fascinating and hilarious.

 

_‘Woods.. run…. rabbit.. yum…. pups.. want…. cars.. too many…. diesel.. stink…. dog.. whipped…. cat.. evil…. female.. fertile…. pizza.. good….’_

 

Stiles laughs long and loud and it draws Derek’s attention and with his gaping jaws and lolling tongue half hanging out it looks like he’s laughing too. 

 

_‘Stiles.. mate.. love.. Stiles..’’_

 

Stiles reaches across to rub just behind Derek’s ear in a fleeting caress before he has to concentrate on the road again.  God he loves him so much, he aches with it.

 

 

Stiles leaves Derek in his bedroom as he hits the shower.  The way the wolf sprawls across Stiles’ double bed, rubbing his head over Stiles’ pillows and comforter, makes it look tiny beneath Derek’s dark furry bulk.  Derek thinks he’s being so subtle.. actually he probably doesn’t care that Stiles is very aware that the wolf is scent marking his bed.  He wonders momentarily if it’s considered a romantic gesture in the werewolf community, considering Derek’s obsession with scent.  It’s sweet in it's own weird and very wolfy way.

 

Stiles has the quickest shower that this bathroom has seen in a long time as he doesn’t need to linger for a special x-rated shower version of ‘Stiles’ gets a grip to his top 10 sexiest Derek memories’, not after coming twice today already with a whole heap more to add to his personal ‘spank bank’.  He scrubs down real quick and feels the need to brush his teeth again after the nachos he had for lunch feel like they’ve coated his back teeth.

 

When Stiles walks back into his bedroom, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, it’s to find Derek has tipped up his dirty laundry hamper and is rolling all over the spilled out clothes on the floor in apparent ecstasy.  He’s flat on his back and writhing all over them, his hips and back legs doing all the work as he pumps them into the air to get enough momentum to wriggle back and forth, his tail swishing like a demented rudder.

 

“Dude.. seriously.”  Derek rolls onto his belly and bizarrely, his wolf’s face is more expressive in a lot of ways than his normally stoic human one, and Stiles can easily read the guilt on it.  For a wolf his size he looks ridiculously cute, because he has a pair of Stiles’ blue cotton boxers dangling from one ear and a sports sock appears to be snagged on one of his fangs so it hangs out of his mouth like a giant white tongue. Every time Derek breathes the sock flares out like some bizarre party blower.  He keens in what sounds like an apology.

 

_‘Smell good..’_

“Yeah, yeah.. I know ‘eau de Stilinski’ does things for you, but really..”  Stiles waves his hand at the clothes strewn from one side of the bedroom floor to the other before picking the hamper up off its side.  “Help me clean this up before my Dad gets home okay.”

 

Stiles grabs the boxers off a pointed ear and unsnags the sock from Derek’s mouth and lobs them into the hamper as he walks to his chest of drawers.  Derek gathers Stiles’ clothes from the floor, holding them very carefully with his mouth.  He drops a couple into the basket at a time, it doesn’t take long and order is restored.  Derek sits in the middle of the room, watching intently as Stiles selects what clothes he’s going to wear. 

 

Stiles is about to drop his towel, when a sudden and unexpected wave of modesty washes over him.  The wolf’s scrutiny is unwavering, green eyes tracking his every movement and it’s silly he knows it is, but.. he can’t seem to let go of the blue cotton bath towel covering him.  Derek’s seen his junk, even tasted it, but Stiles feels very shy.  He can’t explain it.. can’t quite comprehend it himself, just knows he is. 

 

It could be because at the moment he’s not being swept away by an undertow of heat and desire where being naked is an absolute necessity, the feel of skin on skin or fur on skin that makes him feel like he’s drowning in need for Derek.  Only Derek.

 

“Uhm Derek can you turn around please.”  Stiles can see his wolf eyes widen slightly and his jaw drop open, gaping so he’s flashing fang.  Stiles had never known that a canine’s face could be so expressive until today and right at this moment he doesn’t need no mate bond soul connection to tell him that Derek is thinking ‘what the..?’.

 

“I know.. I know.. please I feel stupid enough as it is.  I’m just.. shy.”  The last word comes out on a big gust of air and he feels foolish.  Derek looks at him for the longest time, nods his big wolfy head and turns around presenting his back to Stiles and sits on his haunches, ears flicking back and forth as he listens to Stiles whose breathing is staccato at the moment. 

 

He doesn’t waste time and drops the towel, pulls on his boxers, trackpants and Assassins’ creed t-shirt.  One must be attired comfortably for a night of gaming with one’s bestest bud.  Stiles hadn’t forgotten that Scott was coming over as per the normal birthday ritual that he and Scott shared.  He was struggling to try and think of what good reason he can come up with for having a wolf in the house. 

 

There was no way he was going to hide Derek from anyone close to him over the next couple of days.  It was asking for trouble, his Dad carried a gun and unless Stiles wanted Derek to resemble a furry piece of swiss cheese, he needed to find a way for Derek to be in the house legitimately.

 

“Thanks.”  Stiles runs his hand over the top of Derek’s head and down into his ruff, it’s a loving caress not a pat like you would a family pet and he hopes Derek can discern the difference.  Thinks that maybe he can when he goes to move his hand away and Derek quickly catches it in his jaws.  He holds it with the most delicate care, his sharp teeth pressing ever so lightly against his skin, before releasing it and Derek’s nuzzling into his palm with his muzzle.

 

_‘Shy Stiles..love..only mine..’_

The images that are racing through his brain aren’t his, they’re memories of things he remembers.. but they’re from a different point of view.  Derek’s point of view.  The large black wolf is sending them to him using their bond and it’s overwhelming, because he uses not just thought but all the senses in conveying his message. 

 

Stiles staggers and manages to collapse across his bed, because what his open eyes are seeing isn’t his bedroom.. what his nose is telling him is that there’s a fire when nothing’s burning.. and what his mouth and throat are breathing in is smoke, but the air is fresh through the open bedroom window.

 

**_It starts with flames and howls, smoke and growls and he’s trapped by a ring of fire.  Can feel his breath hitching from strangely dry sobs that rack his chest and throat, but produce no tears even though his eyes burn and sting with the need.  When a voice from nowhere and everywhere speaks to him, it’s soft and gentle and says ‘Please don’t cry’, his gut twists at the sound, wants to hear more, needs to hear more of that soothing, haunting voice if he’s going to retain his sanity._ **

****

**_It feels later, when there’s a blinding light and for the briefest instant Stiles can see his own face, much younger and obviously frightened.  His golden eyes seek blindly, obviously dazzled, and his heart..  no Derek’s heart feels like it’s swelling with the most incredible feeling.  It’s so huge there is almost nowhere else for it to go, but to push it out and send that tether of emotion out to link with the boy._ **

****

**_With the connection in place Derek feels faint as he recognises what it is.  Something only whispered about in the ‘were’ community in hushed reverent voices.  Something he’d never dreamed would happen to him.  He is the least deserving, the least worthy of the beautiful golden eyed boy who is his mate._ **

****

**_The frenzy that grips him when the beautiful boy disappears as suddenly as he appeared is frightening in its intensity.  When he hears Stiles’ voice again the violent emotions dissipate as if they’d never been.  Love and pride war with gut-wrenching fear when later that same small boy hovers over him protectively, trying to defend him from the mauling his twin sisters are giving him.  He feels unworthy of such an act of courage in his defence and draws the slender body beneath him to protect his mate.  He would give his life for Stiles if needed._ **

****

**_There’s a sweet voice broken and shaking whispering in his ear it’s calling him back from a darkness that wants to embrace him and soothe him to sleep.  “Come back to me Derek.  Don’t leave me alone.  Come back.”_**   **_Fire grazes his cheek and nicks the corner of his mouth and his mate has kissed him for the first time and his heart is bursting with a joy that is indescribable.  Nothing will prevent him from getting back to his mate.. nothing on heaven or earth._**

****

**_Then Stiles’ is in an elevator and his.. no Derek’s senses are spinning wildly out of control as Derek embraces his love, his mate.  A ten year old boy, who is braver and smarter and more beautiful than Derek could ever conceive of and he knows that he has to protect Stiles from himself._ **

****

**_Stiles is perfect.  Innocent in so many ways, knowledgable in so many others.  It would destroy something in Derek if he was the one who corrupted that innocence, took advantage of the shy, blushing boy who was looking at him with the most intoxicating expression of awe and hero worship._ **

****

**_Derek makes a vow in his heart there and then to let Stiles grow up and be able to choose for himself whether Derek is the one for him.  When their lips press together in a butterfly kiss that he couldn’t resist asking for, it feels like his whole body clenches up tight and he has to force himself to keep it light and not take more than his mate can give._ **

****

**_When Stiles hooks his fingers into the back of his blue hospital pants and rubs his knuckles against Derek’s skin it’s all he can do to simply breathe.  His mate is burning him alive and he doesn’t even know it, his innocence shines from his beautiful, beautiful face and Derek is almost relieved when the elevator doors open, because he thinks that his mate is so potent that he may break his vow before it even begins._ **

 

Stiles feels his senses return to normal with a jolt.  His memories are his own now.  He’s come back to himself, lying down sprawled across his bed.  Derek has at some point climbed back onto it with him and is lying tucked tight into his side, his big wolf head resting on Stiles’ chest, rising and falling with Stiles’ rapid breathing.  Green eyes watch him worriedly, until Stiles lifts shaking hands and runs them through Derek’s fur.  Caressing him the way he should’ve been held and stroked 6 years ago if he’d only been old enough to understand.  He sends that thought to Derek who closes his eyes and he seems to vibrate under Stiles’ hands, shivering at this touch.

 

_‘I’m sorry.. so sorry.. Six years too late..’_

_‘Never.. never too late..’_

 

Stiles feels like he’s standing in front of an open fire, his cheeks are so hot.  He’s burning up, feverish, he understands Derek all too well and knows that he’s saying he likes Stiles being shy.. likes the fact that the only person who’s touched Stiles intimately is him.   Most of all though he likes that he hasn’t destroyed Stiles’ innocence completely, hasn’t crushed something precious and inherently Stiles with his own needs and desires.

 

He’s a wolf possessive of his mate and it maybe primitive and politically incorrect, but it flips a switch in Stiles and he revels in it.  Delights in their mutual ownership of each other.. definitely of each other because Stiles is just as possessive of Derek.  The wolf is his.  Only his.

 

His chest feels tight and achy, seeing those moments through Derek’s eyes are a wonderful revelation and if anything it makes him love the other man all the more.  He’d felt the pull, the powerful need that the mate bond had exerted and he knows himself..  honestly he thinks if their situation was reversed he would not be anywhere near as strong as Derek has been. 

 

Lord save him.. he’s got one hell of a possessive, overprotective werewolf for a boyfriend.  He smiles ‘coz he can’t help it, he kinda likes the idea.  He bends his head and places a kiss on the end of Derek’s nose.

 

“I’ve never known anyone like you Derek.. you make me want to be a better man.. a man like you.”  He whispers the words against Derek’s muzzle and watches Derek close his eyes almost shyly before they open again filled with love and want.  The wolf gives him a small lick across his jawline and Stiles sighs contentedly as they cuddle into each other, his arms wrapping around the wolf's furry body.

 

The sound of keys being inserted into the deadlock on the front door is jarring.  They listen to the door being opened, neither one moving when they hear his Dad call up the stairs.

 

“Hey birthday boy, how was your day?” quickly followed by “Stiles, where did all these roses come from?”

 

Stiles turns to Derek.  “I think maybe we should ease Dad into the idea of you.. before he actually sees you.”  He pauses.  “That so made sense in my head just then, I’m not so sure now.”  Derek snorts, as if to say ‘you and me both buddy’.

 

“Just wait by the stairs until I call you okay?”  Stiles doesn’t move until he sees Derek nod his head, even though he suspects that the wolf is mentally rolling his eyes at him.

 

Stiles thunders down the stairs.  Bouncing down a couple of steps at a time.  Derek follows behind more sedately, his paws padding softly against the carpet and he waits at the bottom of the staircase.  Stiles smiles at him encouragingly, giving him the thumbs up as he jerkily moves into the kitchen.

 

His Dad leans against the kitchen counter as he shuffles the mail like it’s a deck of cards, checking what bills have come in.  His Sheriff’s jacket is slung over the back of a kitchen chair and there’s a few case files tossed onto the table.

 

“Well someone had a good day.”  His Dad indicates the three vases of roses that are placed on the kitchen bench, the middle of the kitchen table and on the sideboard below where the flatscreen tv is bolted to the wall.  Because flowers weren’t really the norm for the Stilinski men, Stiles had to dig the vases out of packing boxes in the storage room of the garage. It was where some of his Mom’s stuff was carefully packed and kept, safe and sound.  The majority of it was still where she had placed it or used it throughout the house.  Stiles hoped that his Dad would let him take some of his Mom’s knick knacks when he moves out, whether to College or.. somewhere else entirely.  Say a wolf’s den.

 

“Who are they from?”  Stiles shrugs, but before he can get a word in his Dad’s speaking again.  “What.. you don’t want to tell your old man?  Is it that Martin girl you had a crush on back in..”

 

“No.. no.. God no.”  Stiles cringes at the memory.

 

_‘Girl.. no girl.. only Derek..’_   The voice is dark and growly in his head.

 

“It’s Scott isn’t it?  Finally, after all this time you two have come to realise..”  He thinks his Dad is semi-teasing, trying to draw him out but he can’t be too sure.

 

_‘Kill.. Scott..’_

“Dad.”  Stiles interrupts frantically before he scars him and his relationship with Scott for life.  “Scott is my best friend.. that’s it.  We’re close, we're brothers.. God almighty that makes me sound like Dean.”

 

“Dean huh.  So he gave you the flowers?”  What?  Where the hell is his Dad going with this? 

 

“No no.. Dean Winchester.. he’s on this tv show and.. oh it’s too hard to try and explain.  Just trust me when I say Scott and I are strictly friends.”  Stiles feels like his head is going to explode and from the look of the vein pulsing in his Dad’s forehead he might be joining him.

 

_‘Get a grip Derek.. you’re the one that gave me the roses not Scott..’_

He hears a grumbling growl coming through their bond.

 

_‘Maim.. Scott..’_

_“No.. what the hell..’_

_‘Bite.. Scott..’_

_‘Will you stop it.. there will be no killing, maiming or biting of Scott okay.’_

_‘Little bite..’_

_‘No.. there’s no need to be jealous of Scott..’_

_‘Hmmf..’_

 

Stiles is ready to scream.  All the time he’s been having this internal conversation with Derek he’s been watching his Dad tap the edge of the envelope he’s holding against his lips.  He looks thoughtful.  The pulsing vein has eased somewhat.

 

“So no idea huh?”  He asks carefully.

 

“Scott thinks I’ve got a secret admirer.”  Well that was true, he can tell that part without having to lie to his Dad, which he really hates to do.

 

“What?”  His Dad looks at the number of roses in the containers and Stiles can tell he’s working it out how much they would’ve cost, little does he know of the ones up in Stiles’ bedroom and the ones he took around to the Nursing Home where Derek’s Uncle Peter is and asked for them to be put in his room.  Derek had butted his huge head against Stiles’ shoulder in approval at the suggestion when he’d pulled up in front of the Care Facility, luckily it was on the way home.

 

“That’s an awful lot of roses Stiles.  They would’ve cost an arm and a leg.  Is it something another high school student would be able to afford?”  This is what makes his Dad such a successful investigator.  He’s tenacious, doesn’t let anything go.  Asks a lot of questions and keeps doggedly going after the answers. 

 

It drives Stiles mad when it’s directed at him.

 

“So you’re saying I’m not worth it.”  If there’s one thing Stiles knows how to do well, it’s to distract and be generally snarky.  He’s had to, living with a cop isn’t easy, they see way too much.  “Well that’s nice coming from my own father.”

 

“Stow it.  You know that’s not what I’m saying.”  He folds his arms, hips still leaning back against the kitchen counter.  Oh God, he recognises that pose, it’s his Dad settling in for the long haul.

 

Let the interrogation begin.

 

“I’m asking are you sure you don’t know who sent them and have you been aware of any strangers hanging around lately or if you’ve spoken to someone new to the area?  Been in any chat rooms online you shouldn’t have?”  Stiles can feel his jaw drop as he looks at his Dad’s stern face.

 

“You’re asking me if I’ve noticed any creepers hanging around and if I’ve encouraged them.  Really Dad, really?”   His Dad is so protective that sometimes he thinks if he could bubble wrap his son, with bullet proof bubble wrap mind you, he would. 

 

If he’s obsessive about his Dad’s eating habits and happens to know the results of his last cholesterol test then this is his Dad’s counter obsession about his son.  Stiles’ personal safety. 

 

He doesn’t know if it’s because of losing Mom, the whole Greenberg bullying thing a few years ago or that his Dad has simply seen too much on the job, but it’s like it’s his Dad’s mission in life to protect Stiles from any and all possible harm.  It’s not a bad thing wanting to protect someone, he gets it that’s what parent’s do, but this.. this is sometimes so suffocating he feels like someone’s holding a pillow over his face and he can’t catch a breath.

 

Stiles shakes off his growing annoyance.

 

“Well, I have met someone new and I’d like you to meet him okay?”  Before his Dad can say anything Stiles is calling.  “Come on.. D..doggie.. come on Wolfie.” 

 

_‘Wolfie?? Ughh..’_

_‘It’ll do.. stop complaining..’_

 

Derek moves into the kitchen area, sleek and black and huge, he dominates the room with his sheer size.  Stiles’ Dad instinctively throws his arm across Stiles’ chest trying to drag him behind him.

 

“Get back Stiles.” and his hand starts to move to his hip where his gun is holstered.  Just as quickly Stiles catches his arm.

 

“No Dad.. stop.. don’t..”  His Dad struggles to free his arm.  Frantically, looking between his son and the wolf in his kitchen.  Luckily, Stiles hasn’t stopped his weight training program and he’s able to hang on and prevent his Dad from reaching his gun while he ducks under and around the outstretched arm to stand in front of Derek, blocking the shot.

 

“Stiles, it’s a wolf.”  There’s disbelief and shock in his Dad’s voice, his blue eyes are stark against the white cast of his face, and his hand tightens reflexively on the grip of his gun.  The pitch of his Dad’s voice isn’t his usual calm tone, it’s definitely raised.

 

“No it’s not.”  If you’re caught out, deny everything is one of the golden rules that Stiles lives by.  Admittedly, it doesn’t always work, but it doesn’t hurt to try.

 

“I can tell a great big wolf when I see one.. particularly when it’s in my God damn kitchen, Stiles.”  The Sheriff rakes a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands as if he actually does feel the need to tear his hair out over his son.

 

Derek sits on the kitchen floor his head tilting to one side as he listens to the argument between father and son.

 

“Well if he’s got wolf blood in him it’s only small.. like a quarter or something.”  At his Dad’s sceptical look Stiles revises. 

 

“Okay maybe he’s half.  But look at him he’s not wild or anything and.. and he followed me home.  Can we keep him?  Pleeeeeeease.”  Stiles opens his eyes wide and gives his Dad his best most hopeful and pleading look.

 

Seeing that the wolf is apparently not going to attack them anytime soon, it’s now lying on the floor still watching them.  The Sheriff relaxes his hand on the gun grip, not holding it so much as resting his big broad hand on top.

 

“Firstly, he maybe behaving himself now but if push comes to shove.. look at those fangs Stiles.”  Derek’s jaws are gaping as he pants, but when he hears the Sheriff’s comment, he snaps his muzzle closed.  His Dad’s eyes narrow as they examine the black wolf, before he continues. 

 

“They could tear you to pieces if it wanted to.  Secondly, followed you… Seriously.  Stiles, you drove home and I think I would’ve been getting reports through on my scanner about your jeep being followed by.. by.. a wolf that’s as big as a bear.”  He throws out his hand indicating the giant wolf that’s sprawled on his kitchen floor.

 

“Not a bear I mean really..”  Stiles looks down at the black furry shape that takes up nearly the whole floor space.

 

“Okay maybe a small one.. but look Dad, see how obedient he is.  He’s not going to harm anyone.”  Except maybe Scott.  For some reason Derek really has it in for his best bro.  He really hopes his boyfriend isn’t going to try and eat his best friend, ‘coz awkward.

 

“Can I show you?”  His Dad still looks wary and unconvinced as Stiles moves to stand next to him.

 

_‘Help me out Derek please..’_

Stiles calls to his wolf.  “Wolfie here boy.” 

 

Derek gets to his feet and pads to where Stiles is standing next to his Dad, who shifts to one side.  “Good.  Sit.”

 

Derek sits on his haunches his gaze fixed on Stiles’ face, unwavering in his focus.

 

“Lie down.  Wolfie, lie down.”  Derek drops to his belly, long front legs stretched out in front of him.

 

_‘No.. rollover..’_

 

“That’s not bad.”  His Dad concedes.  “Here Wolfie.”

 

Derek gets up and moves to stand in front of his Dad.  “Sit.”  He drops to his haunches again.

 

“He’s very obedient.  Where did you find him?”

 

“Found him in the car park at school.”  Stiles knows that it’s best to stick to the truth as much as you can for a believable story.  He can’t control what slips out of his mouth next. 

 

“He’s good though, right..  obedient.  Almost submissive really.” 

 

Derek’s head whips around and luckily his Dad can’t see, but his eyes flash red for a brief moment.  Stiles winks at him cheekily.

 

_‘Come on.. just a joke..’_

“I think I could almost get him to rollover you know.”  Oh.. he’s pushing it he knows he is, but he can’t help himself the look of outrage on the wolf’s face is a picture and almost has him laughing out loud.

 

Derek yawns as if he’s bored and gets to his feet and makes a beeline for Stiles and before he can react, Derek’s got his muzzle buried deep in his crotch.

 

“Wolfie.. stop that.. Wolfie..”  Stiles voice is high pitched and he can feel panic start to set in as he feels Derek nuzzle and nose around his balls and cock through the old thin track pants he’s wearing.  Hot breath searing through the thin cotton and bathing his balls in sensation.  It’s not because he’s afraid, it’s because he likes it, he can hear the wolf in his head, huffing his amusement.

 

_‘Joke..ha ha’_

_‘Not funny Derek.. stop it..’_

 

His Dad of all things snickers as he watches Stiles twitch and lift up higher on the balls of his feet trying to dislodge the wolf from where he’s practically buried up to the eyeballs in Stiles’ groin.  After his earlier reaction you’d think he’d go for his gun, but Nooooo his hand doesn’t even twitch in that direction.

 

“He obviously really, really likes you.”  His Dad says.  For some reason watching his son’s genitals being on the receiving end of some deep “Wolfie” scenting has eased his Dad’s mind.  Go figure.  If he knew the wolf’s other form he didn’t think his Dad would find it so entertaining to see his son being molested, he’s covered his mouth and Stiles knows it’s because he’s trying to hide his smirk.

 

_‘Derek please.. I am going to physically embarrass myself in front of my Dad if you keep doing that..’_

With one last nuzzle which lifts Stiles balls in a way that makes him squeak as he stifles a moan of pleasure, Derek backs off and sits down.  He looks between Stiles and his Dad and his mouth is open and his long red tongue lolls out the side.

 

“I swear Stiles.. that dog almost looks like he’s laughing at you.”  There’s a smile on his Dad’s face that doesn’t look like it’s disappearing anytime soon, like Stiles has given him the best laugh in a long time.

 

“Yeah.. you could say that.”  Stiles mumbles under his breath.  “He can keep you company while you’re both doing it.”

 

_‘Ha ha.. very funny.. you’ll just have to put up with me smelling horny.’_

_‘Horny Stiles.. good..’_

 

“The City Pound’s closed now anyway so.. Wolfie can stay the night, but I think we need to try and find his owner.”

 

“I can check with Dr Deaton tomorrow, he may have him on file and if he keeps doing that whole crotch sniffing thing I can ask about neutering.  I’m sure Scott could get us a discount.”  Stiles declares, giving his boyfriend the evils and mimicking a pair of scissors cutting with his fingers.

 

Derek growls loudly.

 

“Son, I don’t think you should’ve said that.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott arrives to celebrate Stiles' 16th birthday for their gaming night and meets the big black wolf. A little domestic accident in the kitchen has Derek snarling and ready to bite..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to post. RL gets in the way at certain times during the course of the month and I can do very little work at that time. However, here is the next chapter where we get to know Scott a bit better and there's more Sheriff/Stiles' feels. 
> 
> More feels and angst in this one. 
> 
> Thank you for all the great comments - you know who you are and I love to hear from you. Thanks again.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - uno

Stiles lets Derek sulk in the kitchen for a while, although he does make sure that he’s put down on the floor the big pasta pot, that never gets used, filled with water.

 

“Are you hungry?”  He asks, but the wolf, lying on the floor, turns his head away and deliberately closes his eyes and pretends to sleep.

 

“Okay.”  Talk about no sense of humor.  Although, ‘neutering’ probably wasn’t a joke that would be appreciated while you were in canine form Stiles concedes.  He decides to go and set up the gaming console in the lounge room ready for Scott’s arrival.  His Dad comes back downstairs after changing out of his uniform and grabs his keys and leaves to pick up a couple of pizzas for them.

 

Fifteen minutes later when the doorbell rings, it doesn’t escape Stiles’ notice that even though Derek isn’t ‘speaking’ to him at the moment he still moves swiftly from the kitchen to stand in front of Stiles, protective and alert, ready to deal with whoever’s wanting to come in.  With Derek’s attention focused intently on the door he doesn’t notice Stiles lean down until he’s got his arms wrapped around him and is whispering in his ear.

 

“I’m sorry.  Love you Derek.”  He kisses him on his muzzle making the wolf go slightly cross-eyed as he tries to watch him do it.  The stiff way he’d been holding himself when Stiles’ arms had wrapped around him disappears.  He gives his mate a gentle lick on the cheek and huffs out a big sigh.

 

_‘Love.. Stiles.. maybe..’_

“Oh there’s no maybe baby.. you love me, you know you do.  Almost as madly as I’m in love with you.”  Stiles rubs his face and throat all over Derek’s head making the wolf whine softly as they scent mark each other.

 

“Sorry about the cutting remark.”  Stiles snickers at the double entendre and Derek actually groans, as much as a wolf can, as though in pain.

 

There’s knocking on the front door now and Stiles pulls away reluctantly from his mate to open it.

 

Scott stands there with bags of food and a shit-eating grin on his face as he waves a present in front of Stiles, who isn’t too shy to snatch it out of his best friend’s hand.   Tearing the wrapping until he reveals a new game for his console.

 

“Happy birthday Stiles.”   Stiles has always thought Scott’s smile is contagious as he can’t help but grin back at his best friend with one just as wide.

 

“Are you kidding me?  ‘At Death’s Door 2’.  I’ve been wanting this one for like forever.  Thanks man.”  Stiles grabs Scott and hauls him in for a bro hug.

 

“Don’t I know it.. you wouldn’t shut up about it.  Let me tell you something your subtle hints aren’t so subtle, Mr Popular.. did you figure out who sent you the…”  Scott’s eyes go wide as he hears a deep rumbling growl, they go even wider when he sees the large black wolf standing at Stiles’ side watching him intently.

 

 _‘Derek..’_   Stiles warns.

 

_‘Hmmf..’_

“Wow Stiles.  Look at him.”  Scott pulls out of Stiles’ embrace and walks towards the wolf who stands his ground and gives the other boy his most intimidating look.  It works.  Scott stops abruptly.  It’s hard to tell why exactly, it could be the curled lip revealing long sharp fangs or maybe it’s because there’s the slightest glint of red in Derek’s eyes.

 

“He’s beautiful.”  Scott seems to be mesmerized.  “Where did he come from?”

 

“Found him.. after detention today.  He was in the parking lot.. almost like he was waiting for me.”  Stiles can’t help the smirk he sends his wolf, who simply snorts and shakes his head before stalking off towards the kitchen.  The two teenagers follow.

 

Scott dumps the bags onto the kitchen counter, nudging the vase of roses to one side.  He can’t seem to drag his eyes away from the black wolf who is sitting watching them both.

 

“Canis Lupus.”

 

“What?”  Scott’s obviously speaking in tongues because Stiles is almost positive his best friend, who has more trouble with the English language than anyone he knows, just spoke in latin. 

 

“Canis Lupus.. the gray wolf.  That’s what he is, I’d bet money on it.”  Scott turns to Stiles.  Curiosity on his face.  “He’s well cared for Stiles.. I can see that.. the condition he’s in, he’s a perfect specimen.  Massive though.  You don’t see wolves like him unless they’re in a zoo or a preservation area let alone Beacon Hills.  I have heard of some weird collectors of exotic or wild animals though.. maybe he escaped from someone like that.”

 

“Paging Dr McCall.. or should that be paging Dr Dolittle..”  Stiles teases and Scott bumps him with his shoulder, grin firmly in place.  Both boys lean back against the counter looking at the big wolf who simply watches them both with an intensity that has Scott shifting uneasily next to Stiles, prompting Stiles to ask more seriously.  “You still set on the Vet thing?”

 

“Yeah.. it’s something I’ve been thinking about more and more you know.. since I started working with Deaton at the clinic.”  Scott pauses thoughtfully.  “I didn’t have any idea of what I wanted to do, but I really like working with the animals.. helping them.”

 

“That’s great.  I’m glad for you man.. sounds like you gotta direction now.”  Stiles throws an arm around Scott’s shoulders ignoring the grumbling wolf.    “Might help take the pressure off from your Dad too.”

 

_‘Stop touching..’_

_‘No.  You stop it Derek, he’s my friend.  That’s it.’_

 

“I don’t think it really matters what I do.. what I choose.. he’ll never be happy.”  Scott shrugs, trying for non-chalance, but Stiles can read his best friend like a book.  Even though Scott’s Dad left his family behind years ago he still has the power to hurt his son with his criticisms, which are many, interspersed with long periods of ignoring him.  The guy’s such a jerk, it makes Stiles furious the way he treats his son.

 

 _‘Stiles?  Angry?’_   Derek shifts restlessly on his haunches.  Getting up to move towards the two boys, pushing his heavy bulk in between, separating them. 

_‘It’s okay Derek.. it’s Scott’s Dad.. I can’t think about him and not get pissed off.. he’s such a jerk.’_

 

Scott drops his hand instinctively to touch him and swiftly pulls it back when Derek’s head snaps around sharply as though he’s going to leave him with nubs where his fingers should be.  His elbow hits the vase and sends it to the kitchen floor, shattering.  Glass shards scatter everywhere, some almost invisible in the puddle of water and roses, loose red petals flutter to the floor they remind Stiles of big splatters of blood.

 

“Don’t move.”  Scott grabs hold of Derek’s ruff to stop him moving across the tiled floor, but the wolf stubbornly jerks free of his grip and steps back, yelping as he does.

 

 _‘Derek!’_   Stiles feels his stomach drop at the sound of his wolf in pain.

 

Before Stiles can blink, Scott is kneeling beside the black wolf and grabbing the paw that he’s lifting off the ground, unable to put any weight on it.  Derek growls long and loud at the teenager, his gleaming white teeth flashing.

 

 _‘Stop him.. see healing.. can’t know..’_   Derek sends to Stiles. 

 

“Scott let me do that.”  Stiles crouches beside them both, trying to grab Derek’s paw.  “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

 

“Are you kidding me?  Look..”  Scott holds Derek’s paw gently, but in such a way that Stiles can see the glass shard, almost as long and as thick as his little finger, that has skewered the black pad, blood oozing all around it.

 

Derek barks and growls at Scott trying to scare him away.  Stiles can see his face turn white, but his best friend can be stubborn and determined when he wants to be.. and he wants to be right now. 

 

“Stiles get me some warm water and a towel so we can get this out.  I don’t think he likes me much, just don’t let him eat my face off okay.”  Scott says eerily echoing Stiles’ earlier fears.

 

 _‘No like.. not eat.. just bite’_   Derek’s baring his teeth at Scott and Stiles is so proud of his best friend, he doesn’t even flinch when the hot breath of a wolf puffs against his cheek.

 

“Nah.. he wouldn’t.. he’s a big pussycat really.”  Stiles struggles to reassure his best friend, hurrying to grab what he needs, because honestly he’s not quite sure what Derek’s going to do.  This dislike he’s had of Scott is rooted a few years back now from when they had inadvertently scent-marked each other at a sleepover and Derek had not liked that one little bit.  It still makes a shiver go down Stiles’ spine at the memory of Derek’s intensely jealous reaction.

 

_‘Stiles..’_

_‘Don’t you hurt him, Derek.  Don’t you hurt him.’_

Derek huffs out a resigned annoyed breath, it ruffles Scott’s dark hair and his brown eyes are filled with concern for the wolf’s pain as he looks into his green eyes.

 

“Ssshhh.  It’s alright.. it’s alright.  We’re going to look after you..okay?”  Scott talks soothingly and Stiles can see a tightness around his wolf’s eyes that eases as Scott tries to calm what he believes is one pissed off mother-of-a-wolf.  There’s a tinkling sound of glass hitting the floor and both Scott and Stiles look down at Derek’s paw and the sliver is no longer jutting out of his flesh, it’s on the floor a long shard that’s been dipped in blood.  Blood that wells up covering the black fleshy pad of his paw. 

 

“How did..?”  Scott shakes his head in disbelief that the deeply penetrating shard had somehow worked its way free.. been pushed out of the flesh.

 

“Quick Stiles pass me the towel.”  Scott wraps the clean dish towel that Stiles had grabbed from the kitchen drawers around the wolf’s paw and holds it tight.  Blood soaks through staining it almost instantly.  Scott keeps up the pressure and the soothing words to the wolf, telling him what a good boy he is.  How it won’t hurt much longer.

 

“I think we’ll have to get Deaton to have a look at it, it was pretty deep so it might need a few stitches..”  Scott stumbles to a verbal stop as he peers closely at the paw.  Dipping the cloth into the warm bowl of water that Stiles has brought to him he cleans the blood off and.. gapes. There is no wound.  No more blood oozing out of the unblemished pad.

 

“What the hell..?”  Stiles can sympathise with Scott.  It’s freaky stuff and unfortunately his best friend is just going to have to think he’s going mad, because there’s no way he can explain.  _Scott this is my boyfriend Derek who just happens to be a werewolf and I’ve been in love with him since I was ten._   Oh that would go down so well.  NOT.

 

“Uhmm maybe it wasn’t that bad.  You know like when you cut your head.. it just pisses out blood even if it’s a really tiny one.”  Stiles feels incredibly guilty as he looks at the bewilderment on Scott’s face.  There isn’t much that he keeps from Scott, knows that his best friend is pretty much an open book to him in return, but this.. this he can’t share.  Can’t tell anyone.  Not when there are hunters out there that look upon Derek and his kind as monsters that need to be destroyed.. obliterated from the face of the earth.

 

“I could’ve sworn it was down to the bone.”  Scott sits back on his heels.  Stiles puts his hand on Scott’s shoulder and squeezes.

 

Stiles makes Derek stay in place and with a broom and rubbish bag quickly cleans up the mess of glass, water and rose petals.  Scott grabs the bag from him and carries it outside to the bin letting Stiles have a moment alone with Derek.

 

_‘Are you okay?’_

_‘Yes.. healed..’_

_‘Scott’s really confused now.’_

_‘Yes.. brave.. faced wolf..’_   Stiles can hear reluctant admiration in Derek’s tone.  It makes him smile, but he doesn’t push it, needs Derek to come to realise that Scott is Stiles’ friend and a worthy one at that.

 

When Scott comes back into the kitchen Derek stands in his way and he pauses warily.  His big wolf head may come to Stiles’ ribcage but on Scott he’s more level with the middle of his sternum.  He walks proudly to the other boy and bumps his head against Scott’s chest.  Scott lifts a hand and looks at Stiles questioningly.  At Stiles nod of encouragement he lays his hand on top of the big black wolf’s head and strokes through fur that Stiles knows is incredibly soft to the touch.  There is awe in Scott’s big brown eyes, as if he can’t believe that the wolf is allowing his touch.

 

Derek permits two strokes and then moves away.

 

“Aww I think you just got a big thank you from our.. Wolfie.”  Stiles says, his heart beating heavily with relief and happiness.  Maybe just maybe, they will all be able to get along.  He has a momentary pang thinking of the shattered crystal vase, but thinks his Mom would be okay with the sacrifice of one of her favourite vases, that it would be worth it. 

 

It’s a start.

The front door opens and his Dad comes into the kitchen carrying a couple of pizza boxes and a plastic bag of shopping which he dumps on the counter.

 

“Hi Mr Stilinski.”   If Scott’s voice is a bit higher pitched than normal, his Dad doesn’t seem to notice.

 

“Hey Scott.”  His Dad pats his best friend on the shoulder as he passes and checks out the bags that Scott’s brought in.  Opening them up, he peers in and breathes in the aroma. 

 

“Buffalo wings.. aahhh.  You do realise that if you keep bringing food around like this I’m going to adopt you.  You will become my favourite son and heir to the Stilinski non-fortune.”  His Dad nods his head in apparent seriousness at the new addition to the Stilinski family, his eyes twinkle with good humour at both boys.  Stiles knows that over the years Scott has already easily become part of their small family, that his Dad looks at both of them as his boys just as Stiles knows that Mrs McCall does the same.

 

“Dad.”  Stiles groans.  “Here we go again.. you know your cholesterol could be much lower and..”

 

“Stiles.. a man has needs.. mine are really simple, buffalo wings and pizza are a good place to start.  And right now, I’m starving.  Scott..  my golden child, plates.  Stiles feed Wolfie.. I really can’t keep calling him that, its not very dignified for either of us.  We need to think of something else asap.”  He pushes the plastic bag at his son.  Stiles opens it up and sees his Dad’s grabbed a couple of large packs of raw ground beef and some dog biscuits.

 

_‘Derek.. you okay with this?  I can sneak you something else later if you want.'_

_‘Yes.. mmmm blood…like’_   Derek’s red tongue flashes out, licking his muzzle hungrily.

 

Stiles shrugs and grabs a large bowl and empties some biscuits in and then the meat on top.  He places it before Derek and turns away quickly.  He doesn’t think his stomach can handle the sight of his boyfriend eating raw meat even if it is as a wolf.

 

As Stiles sits at the kitchen table, food spread out before him, his Dad on one side and his best friend on the other.  Derek who’s obviously finished his food comes out of the kitchen and sits right by his chair and rests his head on Stiles’ lap.  It’s at this moment when he drops his hand to lovingly caress his Derek’s ear, earning him an appreciative growl, that Stiles realises for the first time that the people he loves most in the world are right here in this room together for his birthday.

 

If Derek were here in his human form it would be perfect.    

 

 

“I couldn’t believe it, man did you see her face when you said.. no back up.. back up you’re gonna miss the booster pack.. okay you got it.”  Scott sighs in relief as they work as a team to eradicate the zombies that are protecting Death’s Door, keeping the gate open and letting the dead escape into the real world.

 

“I know, right?  Someone had to ask what was up with that written essay part, what sort of question is.. look out..look out.. to your left.. left dude not right..okay.. next level.”  Stiles breathes out deeply and lets his fingers relax on the controller for a brief moment as the game resets to the next level.   He stretches out his neck trying to unkink it and realises his back’s aching from sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch for hours.  He flicks a glance at his watch.  Shit where did the time go.. it’s nearly 12.

 

Derek is lying parallel to his legs, head resting on his front paws and has his back to the screen where all the bangs and screams have been coming from, seemingly preferring to watch the two teens and listen to their conversation.

 

Scott seems to come to the same realisation that time has flown by all too quickly as they played Stiles’ new game. 

 

“I better get going.. I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”  Scott says as he stifles a yawn.  Stiles knows he has to be at the Vet clinic at 6.30 to start cleaning the cages and feeding and watering the animals who are in treatment there.  He reaches across to the console and saves the game.

 

“Yeah that’s okay.. we can finish this off another time.  Thanks for the great gift.” 

 

Scott smiles goofily, it’s a familiar mix of sweetness and exhaustion that Stiles has seen many times before.  Usually after some marathon of gaming or eating microwave popcorn and watching movies until really late at night or really early in the morning depending on your point of view. 

 

He’s so lucky that Scott’s his friend, his best friend and he loves the guy he really does.  They’ve stood by each other for so many years now, that after Derek the other teenager would be one of the first people he would turn to in any crisis and he knows that Scott feels the same.

 

Scott says goodbye to Stiles’ Dad who has been working at the kitchen table with his case files spread out before him.   Stiles literally bumps shoulders with his bud as they do the one-armed hug at the front door and he tells Scott they will probably see him in the morning when they visit Dr Deaton. 

 

Scott thinks it’s just so that ‘Wolfie’ can get checked out, he doesn’t know that Stiles has been seeing Deaton regularly since Laura Hale’s visit the previous year, working with the Emissary to control and enhance his spark.

 

There are times Deaton is so enigmatic and non-committal regarding his spark and its magic that Stiles could scream.  He seems to think that he can point Stiles towards a certain direction and that’s it, that Stiles will be able to figure out what to do on his own.  For the most part he can, but sometimes he thinks wouldn’t it just be easier if he didn’t have to do some mystical bullshit journey of self-discovery to get the answer, that Deaton could just tell him straight up.

 

He yawns long and loud.

 

_‘Hey Wolfie.. lets go to bed huh?’_

Stiles’ groin contracts fiercely as he thinks the words to his wolf.  It’s intimate and he’s happy beyond measure that Derek is here with him, but there’s a small part of him that wishes human Derek was here with him and he was saying those words to him.  That they were going upstairs to his bedroom, to share his bed together and.. tendrils of desire stretch and tickle through his groin.. deep through his guts until he can feel himself start to harden in his pants.

 

 _‘Yes.. yes..’_   Derek’s sounding almost as urgent as Stiles’ feels.

 

“Night Dad.. don’t stay up too late.”  Stiles hugs his Dad, knowing that he’ll probably stay up much later than he should with the number of case files he’s working through.  “Thanks for the money and vouchers.”

 

“Happy birthday again Stiles.  Hope it was a good day for you.”  His Dad rubs at his eyes tiredly.

 

Stiles flicks a look down at the huge wolf beside him.  “It’s been the best.” 

 

Stiles stumbles up the stairs to his bedroom, strips off his pants leaving on his boxers and t-shirt and crawls under the covers.  Derek has been watching him all this time, his green eyes bright and intense, he jumps up onto the bed when Stiles pats the space next to him.  The bed dips sharply with the wolf’s weight and Stiles finds himself rolling uncontrollably towards the huge furred body next to him, just goes with it and wraps his arms around his boyfriend.

 

Derek sighs, a deep and heartfelt one of contentment and pushes his muzzle into Stiles neck obviously drawing his scent into his lungs.  Stiles can’t help himself, he has Derek here on his bed and starts to run his hands through the wolf’s coat, enjoying the soft texture and the solid body of muscle underneath the fur which he can shape his hands around.  Stiles has left the bedside lamp on next to his bed, wants the light on.. wants to be able to see his wolf.. his Derek lying here against.. really more on top of him.

 

_‘I had a great night.. thanks for not taking a bite outta Scott’s ass..’_

_‘No ass bite.. Scott okay..’_ Derek huffs in annoyance as Stiles cackles gleefully. 

 

_‘I knew it.. I knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself when you got to know him.. he’s a great guy, really kind.. wouldn’t hurt a fly..  and don’t think I didn’t notice him slipping you a couple of slices of pizza too..’_

 

As they’d eaten at the table Scott had held a slice of pizza towards Derek under the table.  Stiles’ wolf and his best friend had eyeballed each other for the longest time until Derek seemed to come to a decision and moved forward, delicately taking the pizza slice between his fangs, not touching any part of Scott’s hand.

 

After a long thoughtful moment Derek sends _‘Scott..sad..’_

_‘Yeah.. his Dad did a real number on him when he left him and his Mom..’_   Stiles can remember vividly when it happened, Scott had been devastated.. grief stricken he now realises looking back.  Stiles’ Mom had told him at the time the best thing he could do for Scott was just to be there and listen if and when he needed to talk.  Guessed that Scott had received the same advice from his Mom when Stiles’ Mom had gotten sick too.

 

_‘Bite Scott’s Dad..’_

_‘Yeah.. that I’m totally all for..’_

 

They lay there for the longest time unmoving, until Stiles jolts in surprise when Derek suddenly licks a stripe of wet heat up the side of Stiles’ neck.

 

 _‘Stiles.. feels good..’_  

 

The wolf is right, it’s good and it’s soothing feeling each other pressed close, their breaths mingling.  With their shared heat and weight of their bodies against each other, Stiles muscles have relaxed and his eyes start to droop.  He jerks as a thought occurs to him, making Derek stir.

 

_‘You will be here in the morning.. won’t you?’_

_‘Yes.. promise..’_

Stiles takes that promise with him into sleep, so when he wakes up a few hours later he feels his heart twist sharply when he realises he’s alone. 

 

The light from his bedside lamp reveals the empty space next to him, he puts his hand on the spot and it’s cool.  Derek’s been gone for a while, Stiles glances at the clock 3.09am.  He breathes in hiccupping shudders for a moment until he realises his bedroom door is slightly ajar.

 

Walking down the stairs, he freezes when he sees his Dad is still sitting at the kitchen table, but he’s not alone.  Derek is sitting by him, leaning into his leg, big wolf head resting on his Dad’s thigh letting the older man rhythmically stroke his head.  In his other hand he holds an empty tumbler glass pressed into his forehead, Stiles can see that the bottle of Jack sitting on the table only has a third left in it.. it was a full bottle only yesterday.  He knows because he checked, just like he always does.

 

Stiles’ Dad puts the glass down and grabs something which he shoves into his wolf’s face.

 

“See this is where he gets it from.. those eyes.. they see right inside you don’t they?”  Derek huffs in what sounds like agreement when the other man asks the question.  Stiles knows what his Dad is showing to Derek, it’s their favourite photo of his Mom.  She’s laughing, long wisps of dark blonde and brown blown into her face and mouth.  Golden eyes sparkling.  It’s from their trip to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk and his Mom looks so full of life that it’s almost painful.

 

His Dad puts the photo frame down onto the table and pours another shot into the tumbler glass before raising it in a toast before his wife.

 

“He’s sixteen sweetheart and we’ve done a pretty good job.. or at least you did for the first ten years.  He wouldn’t have turned out so great if it wasn’t for you.  Happy birthday Stiles.. God bless you Claudia..”  He tosses back the shot and lets out a small gasp, Stiles knows it’s from the heat that burns through his throat and chest from the fiery liquid.  He knows because he’s snuck a couple of swallows a while back, wanting to know what comfort his Dad finds in it and whether he could too, he can’t really see what the appeal is just that it warms from the inside out. 

 

The glass hits the table with a thud and his Dad gently strokes his Mom’s cheek on the photo.  “I miss you so much..”

 

Stiles can feel his eyes burn.

 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a really good listener?”  Stiles’ Dad rubs his hand over Derek’s head.  The wolf chuffs softly and turns his head slightly to nuzzle and lick the big protective hand that’s ruffling through his fur, comforting.

 

When his Dad goes to pour another drink, Stiles finds himself at his side and puts his hand out to cover his Dad’s.  The bottle is sat back down on the table and Stiles twists the cap back on to seal it.  His Dad tangles his fingers with his, holding on tight as he looks at his son, his face a mix of emotions that threatens to break Stiles’ heart.

 

“I should go to bed?”  He questions and then nods answering himself.

 

“Yeah.. come on Dad.”  Stiles doesn’t recognise his voice, it’s a rasp, stripped by pain. 

 

Between his son and the large black wolf, who props his legs and hip on the other side, Stiles’ Dad manages to climb the stairs and they get him to his bed.  Sprawled on the mattress, Stiles pulls off his shoes.

 

“I’m sorry.. I just.. she’d be so proud of you.. like I am.”  His Dad looks at Stiles with watery blue eyes.  Stiles holds his hand and bends to kiss his lean cheek.

 

“It’s okay Dad.. I do too.”  Knows that his Dad understands that Stiles misses her too.  He covers him with a blanket and his Dad is starting to lightly snore even before he leaves his bedroom.

 

Stiles and his wolf go back to his room.  He closes the door behind him and leans against it.  Swirling pools of green and silver meet his eyes and there is no need to say anything, to think anything because Stiles just knows that Derek understands.  He always has.

 

The black wolf climbs onto the bed and settles watching him, waiting.  How Stiles ends up with his arms wrapped around his wolf and his face buried in the thick black fur he doesn’t know, is so glad that Derek is here with him right now.  Dry, heaving sobs rack his body making his chest ache and his eyes burn with unshed tears.

 

After what seems a long time, one breath, one heartbeat away from sleep and it feels like thick, soft fur falls away and comforting arms are wrapped around him holding him tight to a solid warm chest and lips are pressed to his forehead in a kiss that brands his skin.  As he falls into the comfort of sleep, a whisper in his ear makes him smile.

 

“I’m here Stiles.”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up after the emotional night before to find himself wrapped around wolf/Derek and the intimacy that they'd delved into before as a wolf and his boy re-ignites. Stiles and Derek visit Deaton and Stiles learns a lot more about werewolves and their rituals, particularly involving mates. Will a protective Derek let their relationship go to the next level in werewolf terms?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is finally, the next chapter. It's been a real struggle to get this one out and I did allow myself a break and posted a one-shot fic called 'Only lonely for you' to get the creative juices flowing again. It did the trick and I'm really looking forward now to where I'm going with 'The first time'. So hang in there with me and we'll get to that satisfying ending before we know it.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who posts comments - I hope you all know how much it means to me.
> 
> Fair warning - there is more xeno contained in this chapter. So if this pushes your squick factor please don't read the first section.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - a solo effort

You’d think people had never seen a guy taking his dog for a walk.  Stiles smirks as a car slows down to watch as he and Derek move down the sidewalk.  Okay.. okay he gets it.  A guy on his skateboard hanging onto the ruff of a big black wolf might cause people to stare. 

 

He’d considered for the briefest of moments asking Derek if he could loop a lead around his neck to tow him along, but couldn’t bear to think of his wolf bound by any restraints.  It just didn’t feel right, aside from the fact that Derek would more than likely take a bite out of his ass.

 

Not going to school or work meant that Stiles couldn’t drive them anywhere so they had to leg it.. well Derek did while Stiles had his board.  Not that Derek seemed to mind, his head was up and alert, powerful body moving fluidly, effortlessly as they headed through the backstreets towards Deaton’s Veterinary Clinic.

 

When he’d woken up that morning, his arms were wrapped around a furry body, the wolf’s back to his chest and his leg thrown possessively across the huge canine.  He’d tried to remember the dream he’d had the night before where Derek was human and had simply held him tight.  Wanted to recapture that feeling for one more moment not caring if he held a human or a wolf, it was all the same to him as long as it was Derek, he nuzzles into the back of the wolf’s neck.

 

 _‘Love you so much Derek..’_ Stiles moans aloud, his morning wood is lying flat and hard against his belly.

 

Derek had obviously just been lying there awake as Stiles had slept because when he runs his hand through the soft fur of Derek's chest down to below his ribs he hears an aching sigh in his mind.  The wolf struggles to sit up.

 

 _‘Up.. Stiles.. need to.. up..’_ The wolf’s voice in his head sounds different this morning, almost desperate.

 

“Uh uh.  You’re not going anywhere Big Bad not until I’ve had my Saturday morning snuggle with you.”  Stiles scratches the wolf on his belly and feels something burning hot and wet brush against the back of his hand.  He freezes at the almost whimper that Derek makes. 

 

Lifting up onto his elbow he looks down to where his hand rests on the wolf’s belly and sucks in a harsh breath.  His heart starts to pound as he sees that Derek’s hard.  The length of his cock has pushed out of his sheath and it’s furiously red and looks to be throbbing, his mouth goes dry when he realises the pulses are so regular it could only be in time with Derek’s heartbeat.  It’s fast.

 

 _‘Stiles.. need..’_   Even though he’s not using vocal chords to communicate Derek’s voice in his head sounds strangled with urgency.  He wonders how long Derek’s been lying beside him with a bruising hard on trying not to wake him up, even though it’s Stiles that’s sprawled all over him.  It sends warmth surging through his chest.

 

 _‘Derek..’_   Stiles feels light headed as the blood rushes from all points of his body to gather south and he’s harder than when he first woke up.  This isn’t just morning wood anymore, it’s a full blown erection of the size and stiffness that won’t just go away by wishing.  He’s going to need to come to get his cock to go down and that thought makes it throb and he’s moaning.  Can’t help himself, he pushes his hips forward.. grinds his pelvis into his wolf’s back.  Derek rolls his head wildly and keens long and low into the early morning light slowly flooding into his bedroom.

 

“Fuck it..”  Stiles grabs hold of Derek’s cock making the wolf whine.  It’s thick and hot, almost scalding, as it rests in his grip.

 

 _‘Stiles.. please.. love you..’_   Derek’s hips jerk forward and his cock pushes into his hand and they both freeze.  Human and wolf groan aloud.  The bed suddenly explodes in a flurry of movement as neither of them can stop. 

 

Stiles watches his own fist pump the wolf’s thick length in a rhythm that has him rocking his pelvis against Derek’s body, the wolf’s spine is the perfect pressure against his cock, the knobs of his vertebrae rub against it in such a way that Stiles almost forgets to breathe.  He’s not going to last at this rate, can already feel his balls start to tingle and draw up tight to his body.

 

Derek yips frantically as his hips buck, pushing his fat throbbing cock in and out of the tight open ended ring that Stiles has formed with his fingers.  Even in his wolf form Derek’s just as ‘blessed’ as his human one.  Pre-come oozes out of the slit and slides down its length so it glistens wetly makes Stiles lick his dry lips and he rocks harder.  He can’t keep himself upright any longer, all strength leaching out of his muscles, and drops down so his head rests against Derek’s and he nuzzles around the wolf’s ear knowing from long-ago research that it’s particularly sensitive to scent marking.

 

_‘Yes.. yes.. mine..mate.. faster please..’_

Stiles is so turned on hearing the desperate pleas in his head, his hand aches where he’s pumping the big red cock so fast it’s a blur, but he doesn’t stop.. doesn’t ease up.  Derek tips his head back and in a sudden moment of clarity must realise he can’t howl like he wants to not with Stiles’ Dad asleep in the house and turns his head slightly and buries his face into a pillow his jaws locked around it.  The desperate keening noises that Derek makes with half a pillow down his throat pushes Stiles right to the edge.

 

A thick swelling races the length of Derek’s cock and Stiles groin contracts fiercely as he feels Derek jerk in his hand, come spurting out furiously across the sheets and his hand branding him with hot stripes of white fluid.

 

“Ugghhh Derek..” Stiles is coming in his boxers, the pleasure too much.. too intense, his cock spurting and pumping and all he can do is collapse half on top of the massive wolf who is shuddering beneath him.

 

“My God.. my God..” Stiles groans chest heaving, shivering still as aftershocks chase one after the other through the entire length of his body.

 

 _‘Not God.. Derek.’_   The wolf unclamps his muzzle from around the pillow, the torn fabric allows the stuffing to come out in great big clumps.

_‘Ha ha.. not funny when my balls feel like they’ve just been turned inside out.. and you owe me a new pillow..’_

Derek looks at him with sleepy sated kaleidoscope eyes.  _‘My bad..’_  

 

If there’d been any doubts that a wolf can smirk, then Derek’s expression is proof-positive.

 

Stiles sits up, looks at his hand that’s covered in Derek’s come.  Lifts it to his mouth and sticks his tongue out to taste.  Barely touches it before his world explodes in a swirl of black fur and crimson eyes as he finds himself flat on his back with the big black wolf above him, all four legs straddle his body and his huge head hangs low and his muzzle is only inches away from Stiles’ nose.  Derek is panting hard, hot breath puffs against Stiles mouth and jaw and his fiery eyes are narrowed watching him intently.

 

 _‘Derek..’_ Stiles says tentatively.  Not entirely sure what’s happening.

 

 _‘STILES.. I.. HUNGER..’_   Derek’s looking into his eyes and Stiles knows that the wolf isn’t talking about nourishing his body with food.  It sends heat racing through his body and God only knows how, but he can feel his cock start to twitch in interest.  Lying down he can see down the length of his body and the heavily muscled wolf above him, can see that Derek’s cock is starting to swell and unsheath again.  Wonders momentarily if the lack of a refractory period is a particular mate thing and then realises he doesn’t care, it’s just too good.

 

Sometimes Stiles has serious doubts about his own sanity, he does things that afterwards he wonders how on earth did he think that was a good idea, this could be one of them.  He lifts his hand that’s still covered in Derek’s come and nudges the wolf’s muzzle away from his mouth and starts to lick at his skin. 

 

A rumble like distant thunder vibrates from Derek’s chest as he watches, his deep heavy chest moving rapidly as his breathing increases in direct proportion to the little noises of pleasure and contentment that Stiles’ makes.  He’s not doing it on purpose, but damn.. Derek’s come tastes so good he can’t help himself.  A bit salty but tangy and wild like him, not bitter at all.  Stiles makes sure he doesn’t miss a drop, licking over and over until his hand glistens with his saliva.

 

Derek drops his head until his jaws are clamped around Stiles throat.  Needle-like pricks of his skin send goosebumps shooting across the length of his body as Stiles moans softly at the sensation of Derek’s fangs holding him. 

 

An Alpha demanding submission from his mate. 

 

Stiles arcs slightly, increasing the exposed line of his neck, Derek growls in approval before releasing him and licking the length of his neck over and over from collarbone to chin, along his jawline and to the scent heavy area just behind his ears.

 

It’s so good, the hot wet pressure driving him mad that it takes Stiles a moment to realise that Derek’s stopped and has lifted his massive head to look at him. 

 

_‘Stiles be.. good..mate..’_

 

Derek’s eyes are blazing down at him and there’s an intensity to them that makes Stiles swallow hard.  When Derek takes a step forward moving up Stiles reclining body, it makes Stiles stomach twist and clench hard.  The mattress shifts beneath him as the wolf’s huge paws make the bed dip and his body rolls from side to side.

 

Stiles thinks he’s legitimately going to have a coronary.  A heart attack or a stroke is definitely on the cards at this rate because all that fills his vision is the deep barrel chest of the wolf.  Black fur above his face but as he looks down towards his feet, Stiles can see that Derek’s cock has fully emerged once more and it’s violently red and slick and Stiles mouth floods with saliva and he’s struggling to swallow as the wolf takes another step up the bed. 

 

His heart’s thumping so hard in his chest, he can’t drag his eyes away from the hard cock that sways with each movement, it’s fully extended, heavy and weighted with all the blood that fills it and it’s hanging so low over his chest the tip almost brushes against him.  Pre-come drips onto his t-shirt, the slit squeezing out the fluid in little pulses.  Stiles knows that Derek’s got another destination in mind and it makes him quiver all over, little tremors that ripple throughout his body. 

 

As Stiles reaches up to grab the thick column of flesh, Derek lifts his head and jumps off the bed, his cock bobbing like it’s waving goodbye and heads for the door where he waits by it. 

“Der..Uhh.. hi Dad.”  The door opens and Stiles drags the sheet across his lap to hide his straining erection, as his Dad pokes his head in, his red blood-shot eyes could almost be mistaken for an Alpha’s, and grunting something that Stiles takes to mean ‘good morning sunshine’ as he heads to the kitchen and caffeine.

 

 _You can run..’_   Stiles watches the thick black tail disappear out the door.  _‘You’re so helping me change these sheets Mister..’_

 

Stiles collapses back on the bed.  Breathing out a big sigh.  His cock is still hard and aching, but damn if he couldn’t wake up to this everyday for the rest of his life, if it didn’t kill him first.

 

 

“Stiles.”  Deaton is as softly spoken and unflappable as ever and Stiles wonders if the man’s ever had a moment’s distress in his entire life.  They’re standing in the consultation room at the back of the clinic, just the three of them.  Stiles and Derek having left Scott’s company in the rear storage room, where he’s unpacking a delivery, only moments before.  Stiles was pleased to see that whatever accord had developed between his boyfriend and his best friend is apparently still in place as Derek permitted Scott to stroke his head as he gave him a doggy liver treat - blech!!

 

“Derek.”  Deaton bows his head towards Derek who responds by regally dipping his huge wolf head in acknowledgement.  It looks almost ceremonial to Stiles and wonders if it actually is, a werewolf acknowledging and being acknowledged by an Emissary.

 

“It’s good to see a member of the Hale Pack in Beacon Hills again.”  Deaton’s eyes run over the massive black wolf in front of him.  “Particularly a full wolf.. just like Talia.” 

 

For the first time in the past couple of years that Stiles has known him there is something in Deaton’s eyes that is genuine.. he thinks it’s hurt and sorrow, but it flashes for only one brief instant before it’s gone.

 

“Stiles, have you been practicing?”  The older man watches him like he’s something interesting he found underneath a microscope.

 

Stiles can feel his nerves skittering wildly, Derek’s looking at him, watching his every movement and he so wants to impress his boyfriend right now that he can feel his hands twitch even though he took his Adderall that morning.

 

“Yeah.. here.” Stiles concentrates hard and it’s quite easy with the wolf standing by his side, because with Stiles’ spark and magic it’s fuelled by emotion, that much he and Deaton have been able to determine, and the love that’s coursing through his system at the moment makes him feel like he’s nuclear powered.

 

Cupping his hand he lifts it slowly up from his side and they can all see the golden ball of energy that sits there, a slight humming in the air where it’s in contact with the skin of his palm. 

 

“Very good Stiles.. that’s the best control I’ve seen with you.. ever.”  He looks thoughtful for a moment.  “I can only presume that it’s being in close contact with your mate that’s helping you focus.”

 

 _‘Stiles magic..’_   Derek sounds awestruck as his green eyes reflect the golden glow making them sparkle and look even more gorgeous than ever.  Stiles feels like he’s drowning in them and can’t help a sigh escaping him.  _‘Like Tinkerbell..’_ Stiles can hear a funny noise which he realises is his wolf snickering.

 

“Ha.. very funny.. this Tinkerbell will kick your ass in a minute.”  Stiles is so focused on the wolf that he forgets all about Deaton until he gives a small cough to draw his attention and realise he's spoken aloud.

 

“I didn’t realise that Derek had marked you.  My best wishes to you both.”  Deaton is formal and slightly disapproving, it’s there in the way he’s standing as though it’s only Emissary etiquette that prevents him from saying anything else.

 

“Marked what?” 

 

 _‘Stiles.. go..’_   Derek tries to herd him to the door, one teenage boy.. his wolf boyfriend and a golden globe of energy which is pulsing slightly now.  Stiles looks between the werewolf, who so obviously doesn't want him to hear anymore, and the Emissary in confusion.

 

“The marking bite.  It’s what lets you hear Derek.”  Deaton’s starting to look puzzled now.  “Didn’t Derek explain.. he really should’ve before he put his mark on you.”  The disapproval’s back full force now and Stiles doesn’t like the way he looks at Derek, feels himself immediately on the defensive, protective of his mate.

 

“What do you think Derek is?  He’s never bitten me.”  Stiles can’t help it, he’s starting to get annoyed and the golden ball in his palm starts to distort.

 

“Stiles focus.. pull your energy back in now.”  Deaton looks at the fluctuating energy ball, concern in his eyes, his voice firm.

 

Stiles tries to draw it back inside him, but it’s not easy it’s almost like it’s fighting him until he feels Derek press his body against his side and then it’s like he has all the power and control in the world and he sucks it back in all too easily.

 

 _‘Thanks..’_   He says to the black wolf, putting his hand on Derek’s ruff and letting his fingers delve in deep into his fur and card through it lovingly.

 

“Stiles.. are you telling me that Derek has not bitten you at all, yet you can still hear him?  How long have you been able to?”  Deaton’s watching them both so intensely that Stiles fights the urge to squirm.

 

“Yep.. no bitey.. I’ve always been able to hear him.. from the very first moment.”  Stiles can see a flash of surprise, quickly masked, appear on the Vet’s face as he steps back to lean against the examination table.

 

“Derek, I can see that you’ve been trying to do the best for Stiles.. but I’m telling you, you need to give him the claiming mark.”  The vet’s attitude has done a complete 180 turn and it’s making Stiles’ head spin.. claiming marks.. bites.. what the hell?

 

Derek shakes his head ‘no’.

 

_‘Why?’_

_‘You.. no choice.. never let go..’_

“If you don’t put your mark onto him others will try and they may very well succeed.  I’m not just talking about other wolves but there are other magic users out there who would find Stiles..”  Deaton pauses evidently trying to think of the most appropriate word.  “Tempting.”

 

Stiles feels heat wash over him.  That really doesn’t sound like a fate worse than death if you asked him.  Bound to Derek forever or pursued by other wolves and magic users hmmm..

 

Derek’s growling fiercely, his upper lip curling back to reveal his long sharp fangs.

 

 _‘Mine.. Stiles mine..’_   He starts to crowd the younger boy, moving into a protective stance in front of him.  _‘Protect… always.. stay..’_

_‘What?  You’d stay with me as a wolf..’_

_‘Yes.. Stiles mate.. need me..’_

_‘God.. you can’t Derek.. I can’t let you do that for me.. What about Columbia?  What about Laura?’_   Stiles is touched and horrified at the same time.  The things his wolf is prepared to do for him, for Stiles Stilinski, leave him amazed and more in love with the wolf than ever.

_‘Stiles.. mine..’_

 

“I know that the claiming mark will make things even more.. intense, but Derek you have to.  It’s just luck that no one else has come across him.. yet.”  Deaton’s serious face starts to scare Stiles even more than usual.

 

“This mark it protects me.. right?”  Stiles is thinking furiously.  There’s no way he’s going to let Derek give up what he’s been working so hard for.

 

“Yes, in that it’s a deterrent, think of it like a supernatural ‘hands off’ warning to others.” 

 

“So if he doesn’t give me this mark.. what you’re saying is that I’m fair game for.. for anyone else who wants me?”  Stiles is staggered and sickened.  These faceless others who would only want him for his magic, wouldn’t care about him at all.. not like Derek.

 

“Yes.”  Deaton looks worried, at least that’s how Stiles likes to interpret the still smooth lines of his face but with a subtle shift around one eyebrow. 

 

“Stiles I’ve never heard of this before without there being a complete claim being made or a claiming bite or mark at the very least.  I would need to look into it but to me it means that either you’re more powerful with your spark than what I believed or that the bond between you both is somehow so strong already that when Derek completes the claim you will be the strongest mate pair in recorded history.  There is also the possibility that it’s both and then..”

 

Deaton huffs out a breath.

 

“Then.. then what?”  Stiles whole body twitches uncontrollably, he feels slightly hysterical.

 

“You will be an Alpha mate pair that all other werewolves will be compelled to bow before.  Derek is a born full wolf and as such can command any werewolf from any pack that he so wishes.. over and above their Alpha.  With you at his side and your magic you can give him enough power to not only command them but to override the Alpha/Beta bonds and make them part of Derek’s pack.  That includes the other Alpha’s.  Derek would become an Ultimate Alpha.”

 

“Holy shit..”  Stiles is looking at Derek as Deaton is speaking, when he turns back to the Emissary there’s an expression on his face that makes Stiles shiver.  It’s gone before Stiles can even blink, but Stiles doesn’t think he was wrong in interpreting it to be one of calculation.

 

 _‘Stiles.. mine..’_   Derek is still obviously focused on the thought of others trying to take what he believes is his. 

 

“I think that’s enough for today.  You both obviously have a lot to discuss.”  Deaton shepherds the teen and the wolf out through the front door.  “And I have some research to do.” 

 

Stiles finds himself outside the building and thinks about saying goodbye to Scott but doesn’t in the end ‘coz he doesn’t think he’d make any sense to his best friend.  He’s got too many thoughts racing around in his head.  The main one being, how come this is the first he’s ever heard of a claiming bite or mark?

 

He drops his board to the ground and hops on, pushing off.  Derek runs by his side. 

 

So why hadn’t Derek mentioned it before?  Does he think he doesn’t need it or that maybe Stiles isn’t worthy of it?

 

He lets his body sway rhythmically letting his motion help propel the board over the footpath as he thinks it over.  Funnily enough for all his ADHD and sometimes flailing ways he’s a natural on his skateboard, something just takes over and it’s second nature for him, becomes fluid and boneless, rarely comes off.

 

_‘So.. this mark.. whassup with that?’_

 

 _‘Stiles.. not ready..’_  

 

They’ve moved so quickly that Stiles and Derek are cutting through the park, following the path under the trees that skirts the huge grassed area.  It’s surprisingly quiet for a beautiful Saturday morning, only a jogger in the distance and a mom with kids at the playground on the far side.  It’s calm and peaceful and it only makes the feelings of anger and frustration that are bubbling inside him feel all the more intense. 

 

Stiles dips on the back of the board to bring it to a stop and as it flips up catches it easily.  The wolf stands by the path just watching him and he wonders if Derek knows how pissed he is through their bond or simply from his body language, because there is a wariness in the green eyes that follow his every movement.

 

 _‘Not ready.. not ready for what exactly?  You don’t tell me anything and the first I hear of some damn wolfy marking thing is from Deaton and not my boyfriend and.. and that blows.’_   It makes him feel ill that he heard it all from someone else let alone Deaton, he of the judgey eyes and blank but still somehow disapproving face. 

_‘Stiles.. too young..’_   Derek steps to one side as Stiles strides towards him under the shadows of the huge tree they’ve stopped by.

 

_‘That is starting to get real old Derek.. guess what I’m always going to be younger than you.. I’m sixteen now, how old do I have to get to stop being too young?’_

_‘Before..’_ Derek huffs in annoyance.  _‘Claim mark.. more needing..’_

_‘So you’re saying I was too young because this mark makes you.. uhh makes you want more?’_   Derek nods his head and Stiles can feel fluttering low in his belly.  How is that even possible?  He can’t imagine wanting Derek anymore than he does now.

_‘No change mind.. mine forever..’_   Derek’s stalking towards him and Stiles ducks around the wide trunk, somehow dodging the huge roots that jut out of the earth and steps into the deepest shadows of the cluster of trees so they can have a bit of privacy.  Ideally he should’ve waited for this discussion until they got back to his bedroom but his Dad’s home, still trying to catch some more zzzz’s before his night shift, and Stiles would be too aware of his presence even in his room.

 

 _‘You think I don’t know that?  This.. you and me.. it’s forever.. you got that..’_   He stands his ground his skateboard in his hands in front of him.  The black wolf starts to circle him, a predator looking for its next meal.

 

 _‘Think yes now.. later hmmfff no..’_   Derek’s eyes are glowing red at Stiles, who shuffles around with each step the wolf takes, something primal and instinctive telling him not to turn his back on the massive beast.

 

 _‘You don’t trust me then to know what’s real.. when have I given you doubt about my feelings?’_ Stiles can feel panic and regret well within him as soon as he says the words, he remembers when he’d sent Derek away one birthday a couple of years ago. _‘ Oh shit.. I didn’t mean.. Derek I was only 13..’_   . 

 

Derek has frozen and the red fades from his eyes leaving only a dull dark green, they don’t shine anymore.  The big wolf sucks in a low shuddering breath that makes Stiles’ chest ache in sympathy.  He drops the board, crouching down and throws his arms around the wolf and cries out in pain because Derek’s memories flood into him as they touch.

 

The park disappears and it’s night, he can feel fur under his clutching fingers, yet there is also the feel of cool leather from a steering wheel.  It’s incredibly disorientating, the leaves and branches rustle and creak overhead from right at this moment, it mingles with the sounds of panting heavy breaths and a desperate low keening, one of loss and panic from another night years before.

 

**_He’s not there.  He’s not there.  He’s not there.  His mate’s gone and Derek is crazed, fingers gripping the steering wheel hard enough to leave dents.  Breathing deep and growling into the night sky, there is a wild frenzy in his blood an insanely strong urge running through his veins, wanting to rip apart whoever dared take his mate away. He needs him, needs Stiles._ **

****

**_The Stilinski home is empty.  The house is dark and even though Derek can’t hear any heartbeats inside he can’t help himself and breaks in.  The rooms are empty and he can scent his beloved mate in each one, the mix of boy sweat and hormones, the pervasive scent of his natural aroma which reminds Derek of lemon sherbet.  Sweet and tart all at the same time.  It makes his mouth water._ **

****

**_Then Stiles’ is standing.. no Derek’s standing in the shadow of a huge oak tree, one that Stiles recognises from climbing it the very first day he met Scott.  Derek breathes deep and tries to stop his trembling, he’s been shaking non-stop since he left Stiles’ home.  The McCall House is in darkness and he can hear that distinctive heartbeat, the fluttering rapid one that reminds Derek of a trapped bird, the one that called to him from across the neighbourhood when he’d been able to finally think straight and listen._ **

****

**_There’s something wrong when Derek calls to Stiles, he knows, he can feel it and the panic surges again.  Stiles is looking down at him and his beloved face is creased with worry and hurt, it makes Derek’s insides twist.  He’s across the yard and scales the side of the house, his claws penetrating the wooden boards as he uses them to reach the window._ **

****

**_Needs Stiles, loves Stiles.  He’s barely able to contain the violent compulsion to smash the window that keeps him apart from the boy and simply place his hand against the hated cold glass.  It’s only fear that he would hurt Stiles that keeps him from doing it.   ‘Please’ he begs.  Stiles’ hesitation before he places his hand against the glass from his side, rips a great gouging slice straight through the core of Derek’s heart._ **

****

**_‘I can’t’ and those two words break Derek.  Shatter him into something so irretrievably despairing that if he could he’d undo himself from existence.  Pull the thread of his life and let it unravel until he’d never been, never caused so much heartache and pain to those that he loved.  It’s too much and while his humanity wants to run and hide and never come out again, his wolf wants to claim him, to pull Stiles close, push him down and take him here and now on this dark porch and force the younger boy to acknowledge him as his mate and his only._ **

****

**_He has to get out of there.. God right now because the wolf is almost too convincing and Derek can hear thunder in his ears as his heart pounds and he flexes his hands, the claws having popped out, all the better to tear the clothes from Stiles’ back.. and he’s running.  Heart racing, mouth dry and yet his face is wet with what he realises are tears, runs to the car and huddles in the driver’s seat, wraps his arms around himself as though he can ease the aching pain that he’s never felt before.  He can’t._ **

****

**_Stiles is thumping his fists against himself??  No..no.. it’s all confused..  it’s Derek’s chest and the grief, anger and longing that pour off the younger boy makes Derek’s nose twitch, it’s an unusual mix of bitter unripened lemon and hot chilli scents.  He’s crying.. crying that ‘he didn’t say it back’.  Say what back?   Derek doesn’t understand, how can Stiles not see that what Derek feels for him is beyond love?  It’s greater than that.  If he was a wiser, more communicative man maybe he would have a name for it, something he could tell the sobbing boy so he could understand.. but he doesn’t, he is crippled and scarred in ways that can not be seen and it leaves him mute._ **

****

**_He sweeps Stiles into his arms the feel of the boy.. his mate against him.. soothes the wolf, eases his despair somewhat but not entirely.  Derek realises that maybe he’s made a mistake seeing the boy at all, should’ve waited until he reached legal age when he can court him with everything that he is, emotionally and physically.  Has he been fair to Stiles?  Probably not, there’s a selfish core to him that has demanded that he not let Stiles forget him, that he be prominent in his thoughts every day as much as the boy is in his._ **

****

**_‘I love you’ Stiles says the words and Derek’s composure shatters just as it did the year before.  He doesn’t know what to say, what to do, what to think.  Why would this human being, this boy who is a gift surely from a deity that he’d not believed in for the longest time, love him?  He’s not a creature made to be loved, yet Stiles is insistent with his declaration, forcing Derek, compelling him to reveal all that is inside him of how he feels about Stiles and it brings relief and fear in equal measure.  Surely now, is when the boy will understand that Derek is not, nor will he ever be complete, without Stiles in his life, by his side and as his mate in every sense of the word._ **

****

**_Derek’s very existence is tied irrevocably to Stiles, without him he is nothing._ **

****

Stiles is crying when the memories release him.  He’s flat on his back in the cool grass and his black wolf is covering his chest and licking his face.  The long, hot rasping tongue gathers each and every tear as though it is something infinitely precious and swallows them down, drinking in his grief and absorbing it into his own body.

 

“Derek..”  Stiles wraps his arms around him and buries his face against the wolf’s thick ruff of fur, breathing him in deep into his lungs.  Sobs shudder through his whole body and the wolf whines his distress at seeing his mate so upset.

 

_‘Stiles.. don’t.. sorry..’_

_‘Don’t you do that.  Don’t you do that.’_ Stiles pulls his head back, his red-rimmed eyes filled with pain and love, hold Derek’s.  _‘Don’t you apologise to me.. don’t you dare.  I’m sorry Derek.. so sorry. I love you so much..no I don’t..’_   The wolf stiffens and whimpers in shock.  _‘No I don’t.. because you’re right.. this is more than love and I don’t have a word for it either.. just I only feel whole when I’m with you.. only with you..’_

 

Derek relaxes and nuzzles Stiles comfortingly, his cool nose and warm breath a delightful contrast against the hollow of his throat.

 

_‘Stiles.. mate..my mate..’_

 

“Derek give me the mark.”  Stiles says it aloud and Derek lifts his head and looks into Stiles eyes searchingly. 

 

“Please.”  He says it simply, makes no demands, doesn’t whine, which he’s capable of, Stiles acknowledges that of himself.  For the first time he thinks he fully comprehends, fully understands exactly what Derek has been saying about the tie and the bond that is between them and what it will grow to be if they take this any further.

 

 _‘Thinking.. later..’_   Stiles nods in acceptance even though his patience is worn and presses him to persist, he doesn’t.  Lets it be for the moment.  The wolf nuzzles back into the crook of Stiles neck.  His wet nose presses against Stiles pulse and breathes him in.

 

They lie under that tree for a long, long time.  Stiles watches through slitted eyes the light filter through the leaves, making it softer and tinged with green, his hands stroke and smooth through Derek’s fur.  The wolf is rumbling contentedly against him, the vibration against his chest is soothing.

 

“You’re not nothing.”  Stiles doesn’t even realise he’s opened his mouth and said something until it’s there hanging in the air between them.  The wolf shifts slightly so his head is resting heavily on Stiles’ chest his green eyes brighter than they had been earlier.

 

“Even if I wasn’t here, you would always be something.”  Stiles reaches up and grabs Derek’s head behind his pointed wolf ears and pulls him closer to his face.  Presses kisses all over Derek’s muzzle, hears the little rumble of happiness that his wolf makes.

 

“Derek Hale you would always be special, you would always be worthy and most of all you would always be loved.  Just like you are now.”

 

One lone tear wells up in the green glistening eyes and spills over to run down his cheek onto his muzzle.  Stiles runs a sweeping tongue over the wolf’s face to gather it up and it’s his turn to drink him down. 

 

 _‘Stiles.. yes..’_   Stiles knows that Derek’s talking about the mark and his heart fills with love and more until it’s spilling out of him and he just hopes that no one notices that the little grove of trees he and his wolf are lying in is glowing with a golden light.

 

“Yes.” 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Savouring the understanding that's between them now and the promise of the claiming mark Derek and Stiles perform a rescue and it leads Stiles to some personal decisions and a frank discussion with Derek about their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another installment in the increasingly epic 16th birthday of Stiles Stilinski - hope you enjoy it, more fluffy and emotional than anything, because I can't help myself. 
> 
> Thanks again to all those who read, comment and kudo my work - you guys are the best. Thank you.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - by mine own fair hands only

 

“You are so my hero.”  Stiles bats his eyes at his wolf, who is draped across him while they prepare to watch the first season of Supernatural, Stiles was going to watch the latest one until he found out that Derek hadn’t seen any of it before and he wasn’t going to spoiler it for his wolf. 

 

“I don’t know how I’m going to pay attention to the Winchester boys with you next to me in all your hero type glory.”  He smirks.

 

 _‘Stiles..’_   Derek leans forward and headbutts him lightly. _‘Shut up..’_   Stiles snickers.

 

“I don’t know who’s more in love with you now, me or Holly.”  Stiles is lying on his side on the couch and Derek is tucked low behind him, sprawled heavily over his legs, pinning him.  He likes the feel of that weight pressing him down into the soft cushions.  Derek huffs and rests his head on Stiles’ hip to face the flatscreen. 

 

“Seriously, you saved her.”  Stiles gently strokes the soft fur around the wolf’s sensitive ear, watches as Derek almost absent-mindedly tilts his head and leans into his stroking hand. 

 

His wolf is such a good man and isn’t that one of the strangest most contradictory thoughts he’s had in a long time, considering his life.. it’s an achievement.

 

 

That morning after their argument.. dispute.. tiff.. confrontation, Stiles really wasn’t sure what to call it, they’d laid drowsily tangled together, under the canopy of leafy branches, simply savouring being close to each other.  The compulsion Stiles feels to run his hands all over the wolf is beyond his control, he just needs to.  Needs that connection, Derek seems to need it too.  If he stops even for a moment, his wolf nudges at his idle hands with his head in encouragement.

 

Every now and then one of them will shift and Stiles will place a kiss on Derek’s muzzle sometimes right between his eyes which makes him giggle..ahem.. laugh, in a very manly way, as the wolf goes cross-eyed trying to watch.  Or Derek will lazily lick a hot wet stripe along his neck or dip into the grooves of his collarbone, which try as he may Stiles can’t prevent the little noises that sensation provokes.  Derek seems to enjoy hearing them because there is a devilish look on his face every time he succeeds, he pants steadily, his red tongue lolling to one side of his open mouth in apparent amusement.

 

Derek has agreed to give him the claiming mark tomorrow before he leaves and Stiles feels torn, can’t wait because he wants it so badly, wants to feel even closer to his wolf, but it also means that once he’s bitten he’ll be saying goodbye as well.  It’s too bittersweet for words, he’s starting to feel that he’s living out the plot of some bizarre romance novel. 

 

They’ve also agreed that for the moment, that until they come up with a better word, ‘love’ is how they will refer to the wildstorm of feeling between them.  Stiles had tried ‘googling’ it, looking on an online thesaurus and tossed out a few words devotion.. adoration.. but nothing seemed to fit, Derek shaking his big wolf head ‘no’, even though they were certainly elements of the feeling between them.  Stiles tells him they will mark it a ‘work in progress’.

 

Stiles is lightly dozing when he’s jolted to full awareness by Derek suddenly sitting upright, his ears twitching, alert and seeking.  Before Stiles can even blink Derek’s up and gone.

 

Stiles scrambles to his feet, grabs his board and runs out of their secluded grove to see Derek running across the open green space.  Loud, frenzied barking echoes around the park, the trees bordering it acting like a barrier and projecting the sound back inwards.  It’s extremely disorientating. 

 

Stiles looks ahead to where Derek’s running to and can see coming from the other far entrance two dogs.  They’re running, their leashes trailing behind them, whipping wildly like great tails as they snap and bark at each other.  For ordinary dogs they are big and solid brown creatures, he can’t tell what breed they are from where he is.  The figure of a man is chasing after them in the distance, calling out ineffectively for them to ‘get back here’.

 

Their apparent target is a little girl who is toddling across the deep green grass of the field, in her hands a large round ball and Stiles is pretty sure from the way they are slavering to get to her that it’s not to say a nice friendly ‘hello’, more about which one gets the tender white meat first, like at Thanksgiving.  Stiles can see a woman running towards her from the playground and she’s crying out, shouting out to the little girl.  Derek is on an intercept course for the two dogs.

 

Stiles runs as fast as he can towards the little girl, she’s closer to him than she is to the woman and just in case Derek can’t stop both of the dogs Stiles needs to get there to protect her.  He still carries his skateboard, he might need to use it as a weapon, God knows he’s had to before when he laid into Greenberg with one.

 

His heart’s pumping as hard as his legs are as he sprints madly.  Out of the corner of his eye he can see that Derek’s reached the dogs.  He slides to a stop, grass and earth flying behind him as his claws dig into the ground and plants his front feet, his sheer bulk over them is truly awe-inspiring.  Across the park echoes a growl that makes Stiles’ hair stand on end, his stomach quiver and lurch as he feels the pull of his Alpha.  He whimpers softly under his breath.  Stiles reaches the girl and scoops her up, standing defensively in case the dogs make a break for them.

 

Derek is demanding submission from the two dogs and he receives it, they sprawl before him fawning and roll exposing their vulnerable bellies.  Derek stands over them unmoving and unimpressed, before growling again and sending them running back the way they’d come with a vicious snap of his huge jaws.  Derek watches the yipping pathetic creatures, with their owner now turned around and still chasing them, even after they are out of sight and Stiles knows he’s using his other superwerewolfy senses to determine that they are definitely gone.

 

“Holly.. Holly.. oh my God baby are you okay?”  It’s only when the woman reaches Stiles and the little girl that he realises he knows them and he hands the child to the blonde woman, who drops to her knees and is just holding her tight when she looks at Stiles properly.

 

“Stiles?”  There’s a questioning note in her quivering voice.  Her blonde bobbed hair is wildly dishevelled from her mad dash and she’s gasping slightly.

 

“Hey Trudy.”  Stiles waves at her with one hand.  “Hi Holly.”  The little girl who looks to be about 2 or 3, watches him warily with huge blue eyes, stuffing her thumb into her mouth.  She’s kinda cute he admits with her soft blonde hair tied up into pigtails, her purple t-shirt and denim jeans that are patched with rhinestone butterflies on the pockets.

 

“Thank you so much.. one minute she was there playing in the sandpit while I was giving Cody a push on the swing and the next..”  Her breath hitches slightly.

 

“Is.. is that your dog?”  Trudy asks as Derek has obviously decided that they are all safe enough now and is standing beside him.

 

“Yep.. this is Wolfie.. although Dad thinks we should rename him.”  Stiles drops a hand on top of the wolf’s dark head before reaching under and scratching his chin.  Derek tilts his head to allow him better access.

 

_‘Good job mighty Wolfboy, defender of the weak and….’_

_‘Who is?..’_ Derek interrupts and Stiles gives him the evils because he’d just been on a roll cataloguing Derek’s superhero virtues.

_‘Trudy.. police dispatcher works with my Dad, must be her day off.. and this is her daughter, Holly.. over near the swings that’s her son, Cody.’_

“Doggie.”  No matter how shy Holly is with Stiles she apparently has no reservations about Derek the wolf at all and throws herself towards him before her Mom catches the back of her jeans and pulls her back out of the wolf’s reach.

 

“Uhh.. is he okay with kids?”  Trudy asks, not that Stiles blames her, Derek’s huge as a wolf, his head level with Stiles’ chest, he looks like he could squish Holly with one dinner-plate sized paw.

 

 _‘So.. you good with kids?’_   Stiles doesn’t have any doubts, just wants to yank Derek’s chain a little bit.  The wolf needs a bit more teasing in his life.  He can literally see Derek’s eyes roll in annoyance.

_‘Stiles.. pup safe.. me..’_  

 

“Yeah.. sure.  He’s a big ol’ pussycat when you get to know..”  Stiles stumbles slightly as Derek bodychecks him as he moves past to where Holly is standing with her arms outstretched towards the big black wolf.  He leans down and lets the toddler thrust her hands into his fur, scruffing it in her tiny fists as she babbles happily at him.

 

“Well he’s certainly a big ‘un.”  Trudy picks up Holly, Stiles winces as he sees a number of black hairs held in her tight little fists not that Derek complained, and props her on her hip as they walk across to the playground where Cody is still sitting on the swing waiting for his Mom.

 

Cody hops off the swing and runs to his Mom’s side burying his face against her leg.  Trudy cups the back of his head with her free hand, running her fingers through his short blonde hair.

 

“Hey little man.. it’s okay.. Mom’s here.. it’s okay.”  Her voice is soft and soothing and it kills Stiles.  He can remember his own Mom saying and doing the same things to him.  He can feel the crack in his heart that’s been there since his Mom died shift and pained longing sears through his insides. 

 

He wishes she were here so badly.  He wishes he could tell her all about Derek, not that he hasn’t at the cemetery, but he would love to know what she thought of him, what she thought of them together.  To hear her voice while she told him.

 

_‘Stiles?’_

_‘It’s okay.’_

_‘Not okay.. Stiles?’_   Derek moves to his side and presses against his leg and hip, offering comfort.  It doesn’t surprise him anymore when he realises it does comfort him.  Stiles dips his head down arms wrapped around the wolf’s neck and whispers in his ear.

 

“No I am okay, really.. thank you.”  He gets a gentle lick along his jaw in response.  Derek doesn’t need to say anymore, he never has, he’s always seemed to understand Stiles better than even.. even Stiles.

 

“Stiles I can’t thank you enough.. you and Wolfie.  I wouldn’t have reached her in time and those dogs..”  Her voice trails off and Stiles can see the vision of horror in Trudy’s eyes at what could’ve potentially happened to Holly.

 

“Well we were here and it’s all good.”  He’s relieved to see that darkness leave her eyes as she focuses on him and what he’s saying.

 

“We’re having a picnic and I’ve got more than enough food.. I know it’s probably not very exciting for a teenager but if you want to stay..”  Trudy offers tentatively.

 

 _‘Yes.. yes..’_   Derek looks at Stiles and then at the kids, he’s reasonably sure that Derek’s not wanting to devour them like in some dark fairy tale, there is such longing in his expression and Stiles doesn’t have the heart to deny him anything.

 

The next couple of hours are a revelation to Stiles as he sees Derek interact with the kids.  He is infinitely patient, even when his tail’s being yanked on or his fur is pulled out near enough by the roots or when Cody kicks his ribs with his little heels yelling ‘giddyup horsey’.   He is kind and gentle with the two little ones, picking the six year old up by the back of his jeans when he falls over and checks that he isn’t seriously hurt by snuffling all over and he allows Holly to use him as a giant furry cushion, one that she climbs on, sprawls over, steps on and his absolute favourite, drools on when she falls asleep on top of him.

 

Derek’s eyes glow with a haunting mix of joy and sorrow that makes Stiles’ chest ache and he knows without being told how much Derek has missed his younger siblings and baby cousin.  There is a little voice in the back of his head that’s whispering about how good a father Derek would be and it shakes Stiles to the very core, because he hadn’t really thought about it in depth before, because for fuck’s sake he’s only just turned 16. 

 

But, now that he is, he knows that he wants kids.. wants a family.. and he wants it only with Derek, can’t picture it with anyone else.  The rest of the afternoon Stiles knows he’s distracted, Derek asks him a number of times if he’s okay, but it just feels like he’s had one personal revelation after the other today and he just needs to process it.

 

When they finally get home that afternoon, Stiles feels exhausted, even the wolf pads tiredly into his bedroom before collapsing on the bed.   Who knew kids could be so tiring?  Stiles doesn’t know how many times he ended up pushing the kids on the swings, he lost count after 20.  He is so getting Derek to give him a push next time ‘coz he’s obviously been missing out. 

 

Stiles face plants himself into his pillow, before turning his head to look at the wolf.  Derek’s facing him, sprawled across his bed, and his eyes are still light with happiness and he’s compelled to lean forward and press a kiss on top of his muzzle.

 

“So how many kids do you want?  I figure at least a couple you know.  No only children thanks.  Not everyone’s lucky enough to find a brother from another mother, like me and Scott.” 

Derek blinks.  Then blinks again before he starts to keen, long and low.  He moves forward and presses his head tight against Stiles’ letting their eyes meet and hold, swirling shades of green linked to honeyed amber, their breaths intermingling.

 

 _‘Stiles.. pups with me?’_   There is a broken quality to his thoughts as though Stiles has offered him something that he’d never thought to have.. which is probably true Stiles thinks sadly.

 

Stiles cups his mate’s face, thumbs idly caressing along the bridge of his nose and under his magnificent eyes, over and over.

 

“Yes, with you.  Who else?  Not straight away, of course.  I’m only 16 and you’re only 22 and I want to have lots and lots of special alone time with you..”  He waggles his eyebrows lecherously at the wolf who snorts in what he has come to recognise as amusement.

 

“And there’s all the other stuff I want to do first like College.. and getting a job and travelling and.. I want to see a Mets home game at Citi field.. and I wanna try a cocktail too.. have you had a strawberry daiquiri?  They always have them in the movies and I just want to know what it tastes like.”  He pauses for a moment and Derek’s just looking at him eyes wide.  “Most of all I want to do these things with you.”

 

Derek pushes his muzzle into the hollow of Stiles throat, scenting him.

 

 _‘Love you.. so much Stiles..’_   There’s a tone in the thoughts that Derek’s sending him that makes his chest feel tight and achy, almost like he can’t quite believe that Stiles wants these things with him.  _‘Want to.. with you.. too..’_

 

“I’m sure there’s heaps you want to do too, but I read somewhere that a lot of couples..urr mates don’t talk about the three most important things when they get together.  Sex, kids and money.. but not necessarily in that order.”  He doesn’t want Derek to think he’s a bit obsessive about the sexy times aspect.. even though he is.  Just as he doesn’t want Derek to know that he actually read about this in one of Mrs McCall’s Cosmo magazines when he was waiting around their house for Scott one day.

 

_‘Sex yes..18… pups yes.. later… money yes.. plenty…’_

 

“Well that was quite.. uhmm to the point.”  Stiles frowns at Derek, before he’s blushing furiously, knows he is because his cheeks are scalding with heat.  He’s been wanting to talk to Derek for some time now about the uhmm.. about the S - E - X  part.. yep nothing wrong with his spelling.  He’s good with big words too like M - O - R - T - I - F - Y - I - N - G.

 

“Aahh as to the sex.. I.. I’ve been researching and I.. you probably know about this sort of stuff and I’m not saying anything new.. or maybe I am.. maybe you already knew..  or you don’t and this is a complete surprise..”  Stiles can hear his voice wavering in pitch the more he speaks, but he can’t seem to stop, his mouth running away from his control.

 

 _‘Stiles.’_   Derek says his name with just that note of ‘WTF are you talking about now and if it’s important can you please get on with it’ which is enough for him to focus.

 

“Derek.. I don’t know about you..  but I think.. I suspect.. I’m a bottom.”  Stiles bites his lip and feels his head spin as his anxiety levels peak higher and higher, this is so embarrassing but he sort of wants to be a bit prepared for when they are "together-together", mentally adding the air quotations, ‘coz heat of the moment and all that and he doesn’t want to stuff it up, wants to please Derek and wants.. God he just wants everything when it comes to Derek .  He’s watched enough porn and had enough sexy dreams about his wolf that he knows what position he can see himself in when they’re together.

 

 _‘Good.. like shy… Stiles mate..’_   Stiles gulps loudly, Derek’s eyes have flashed to red and damn if the wolf doesn’t actually lick his lips while he’s looking at him like he’s a tasty treat.  A morsel he just has to devour right now and that makes his stomach lurch wildly in a totally.. totally good kinda way.

 

 _‘Wait.. see.. try.. no rush..’_   His tongue flashes out and licks around Stiles’ jaw, hooking into the whorls of Stiles’ ear making him squirm.  Derek’s growling with a heated urgency that makes Stiles shiver _._

That Derek’s even willing to talk about it makes Stiles’ heart race furiously.  He wraps his arms around the wolf and holds him, Derek drapes a heavy paw over his side and it’s a long time before their breathing settles into a more steady normal rhythm, enough that Stiles can speak again.

 

“Okay.. okay..”  Stiles tries to refocus even though his brain has apparently short-circuited.  Because he’s got a porn film running through his head and it stars himself and one sexy werewolf and they’re trying out a few things and.. damn it.. he needs to stop that right now.. bad Stiles, bad. 

 

“The kids part I think we’ve got worked out.  We want them. There’s a lot of ways for us to have kids together adoption.. surrogacy.. fostering.  When we’re ready we’ll look through the options okay?”  Derek huffs in agreement.

 

“I don’t care how much money you’ve got though.. I’m not going to sponge off you.  I’m going to work and earn money to help pay for things, for us okay?”  This is something Stiles feels quite strongly about.  He’s quite determined to contribute to their relationship and later on maybe their family.  He knows that Laura and Derek are quite well off, he vaguely remembers his Dad saying that the Hale Estate had been put in a trust fund for them both.

 

 _‘Provide for mate..’_   There’s a tone in what he’s hearing that tells Stiles that this, out of all of them might be surprisingly the one that trips them up.  He suspects it’s something to do with Derek’s wolf side needing to provide for his mate, that it’s part of who Derek is, part of his wolf DNA.

 

“You can provide for me as long as I can do the same for you.  Let me contribute to us as well.”  Stiles can see the visible struggle on the wolf’s face.  “Please.. please.. let me care for you the same way you do me.  I need to.”

 

After what feels the longest moment Derek licks a long lingering path up his throat and around his chin and mouth, the flickering heat makes Stiles sigh and as his lips part to release it, Derek’s tongue swipes across them dips in and nudges against his own.  It makes Stiles squirm and he wants more, but Derek pulls his head back and simply looks at him as though he’s trying to permanently burn his image into the cells of his memory.

 

_‘Yes.. Stiles and.. Derek okay.’_

 

Yes they are more than okay.  They are so good, so perfect that Stiles can feel his face start to ache from the stretch of his smile.  He's so damn happy.

 

 

Stiles is showered and dressed in old sweat pants and a thin cotton t-shirt as he sprawls on the couch.  His Dad’s already headed off for his night shift and given his usual spiel about being careful on his own, keeping the doors locked yada yada.. although he’s added a new twist that if Stiles collapses or is injured that Wolfie may try to gnaw off a limb.  His Dad didn’t look too impressed when Stiles told him he thinks it’s only cats that end up eating their owners.

 

With a full belly ‘coz he ended up cooking pasta for dinner, spinach and ricotta cannelloni which surprisingly the wolf loved even if it lacked meat, he waits for Derek to come down from the bathroom.  He can hear the shower going and his stomach contracts as he pictures Derek standing under the spray.  Wonders idly if Derek’s changed at all from how he remembers him.  Two years is a long time, he scratches his belly dragging the cotton up to expose his pelvis and observes the changes that he’s undergone in that time. 

 

He’s got a defined v-cut of his pelvis now and while his abs aren’t as ripped as he remembers Derek’s being, they are definitely there.  The dark hair of his happy trail is thicker, he pulls on the waistband of his sweat pants and he’s gone commando so he can immediately see his cock, which pulses slightly under his gaze. 

 

“Down boy.”  He whispers.  Derek had told him a couple of years ago that he was still growing and not to worry about the size of his cock and he’s relieved that the other man spoke the truth.  He’s grown.  His cock’s definitely thicker and longer although he thinks maybe because of his slender hips and thighs it’s exaggerated it’s appearance even further.

 

He’s not in the same league as Derek, but who the fuck was because the wolf was still the possessor of the biggest cock he’d ever seen, which considering his comparisons were all porn actors and not exactly small themselves and the boy's locker room at school where it was an unwritten rule to not notice anyone elses' nether regions..  well Stiles considered himself a very lucky albeit terrified mate indeed.  He didn’t really have a clue where he was supposed to put all of that.. that flesh.

 

Stiles lets go of his waistband and rolls over so his disobedient cock is pressed against the couch.  Dips his hand into the bowl of microwave popcorn he’s left on the floor, and grabs a handful which he chews messily straight out of his palm.  Splutters it all out in shock when he feels a heavy weight suddenly land on his back and Derek’s leaning over his shoulder and licking at the salt and butter that’s smeared across his chin and cheeks.

 

 _‘Yummy..’_  The wolf snorts and huffs in amusement at the mess.

 

“Thanks a lot.”  He half-heartedly pushes the wolf’s muzzle away and smiles when Derek gives him another lick right where there’s more salt and butter.

 

 _‘Your show.. brothers..’_ Stiles holds the DVD cover up for Derek to look at.  _‘Nice car..’_

“67 Chevy Impala.. it’s Dean’s baby..”

_‘Pretty one..’_

‘Yeah.  I evidently have a weakness for green eyed bad boy hero-types.’  Again the wolf snorts at him as he presses the buttons on the remote.

 

 _‘Bad boy hmmf.. not hero..’_   Derek looks into his eyes.  _‘You hero.. I heal.. you don’t..’_   It’s so typical of Derek to try and downplay what he did, to not want to accept any thanks or praise.  It makes Stiles just want to shake him.

 

‘You are so my hero.”  Stiles bats his eyes at his wolf, who is now draped across him.

 

“I don’t know how I’m going to pay attention to my Winchester boys with you next to me in all your hero type glory.”  He smirks.

 

 _‘Stiles..’_   Derek leans forward and headbutts him lightly. _‘Shut up..’_   Stiles snickers.

 

It’s somewhere in the fourth episode, where Dean’s pitching a fit about flying, that Stiles wakes up to Derek trembling and jerking in his sleep, still draped across his back.  He wonders if he’s dreaming of bringing down a deer or catching a rabbit in his wolf form.  Stiles wonders if it’s actually something worse when he hears a strangled high-pitched whimper from a wolf throat that makes his skin prickle and the hair at the nape of his neck stand on end.

 

Laying his hand on top of Derek’s head he lets his thumb brush the fur between his eyes, rhythmically stroking as he talks to his wolf and tells him “It’s okay Derek.. it’s gonna be okay.”

 

Eventually, the tremors stop and Derek’s breathing returns to a more even pace.  Stiles is laying on his belly and the wolf pins his lower legs down so he can’t move.  His arm is twisted behind him so he can still stroke his wolf and soothe him while he sleeps.  He feels so much love for him right now that as he closes his eyes a golden glow seeps in around the edges of his eyelids, Stiles lets it wash over him and wishes that Derek could sleep peacefully and that he could dream that wonderfully real one again where it felt like Derek had held him in his arms.  He lets out a longing sigh.

 

Sleep beckons and he allows himself to tumble into it head first chasing a dream.

 

When he wakes again there’s a hot weight upon his back.  Derek must’ve shifted in his sleep and Stiles wriggles trying to move him so he can breathe again.  Derek presses back and.. woah mama!  That is some serious artillery being ground into his ass.. not so much is that a gun in your pocket, more like is that a fucking cannon. 

 

Derek runs his hand up and down Stiles’ side dragging the cotton fabric of his t-shirt up until it’s bunched beneath his armpits exposing the skin of his back.  It’s light and gentle almost reverent as his fingers splay wide seemingly trying to touch as much of his flesh as he can and Stiles feels like he’s being burned alive by...  Derek’s hand..

 

.. his hand..

 

Holy Fuck!!  


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has woken to a very human Derek stroking him, it's so good and been so long since he's been close to his boyfriend like this that it takes Stiles a while to realise that Derek's not fully awake and thinks he's dreaming. Can Stiles convince him that he's real and this isn't a dream? Can Stiles convince him that 16 isn't too young to take things up a notch or two between them without breaking Derek's vow?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brace yourself - a very long chapter and a lot more intimate than anything previous, we are well along the road to Stiles' 18th.
> 
> Please be aware that this is intimacy between a 16 year old and his 22 year old werewolf boyfriend - if this is not your thing please don't read. 
> 
> Stiles has to present a reasonably convincing argument to Derek so they can go further, but as always he still has Stiles' best interests at heart.
> 
> Thanks to the very kind commenters who encourage, inspire and motivate me maybe more than they know.
> 
> unbeta'ed - solitaire

Stiles pushes up to his elbows, back arching almost painfully, he’s just trying to see over his shoulder and..  Derek’s suddenly there.. pressing the side of his face, his all too human, all too beautiful face against Stiles’. 

 

He mouths kisses along Stiles’ jawline and nuzzles the hinge of his jaw and up to his ear where he captures the lower lobe between his teeth and.. tugs.  It’s a tug that Stiles feels all the way down to his toes and everywhere in between.  The breath he’s been holding explodes out on a soft cry, one of disbelief and a bone deep longing.

 

“Derek..”

 

“Stiles baby.. I’ve missed you so much.. love you so much..”  His tongue is wickedly tracing patterns over his neck interspersed with little fleeting nips and Stiles can only groan because the pleasure is so intense, the need so fierce that he feels incapable of reason.  Stiles is going mad and Derek is the instigator of his pleasurable descent into madness.

 

_‘Oh.. Stiles you taste so good.. so good.. nothing like it..nothing like you..’_

 

Derek’s grinding excrutiatingly slowly against him, it’s a slow sensual torture that makes him melt.  The thick heavy weight of Derek’s cock soon finds the niche, the dividing line between his ass cheeks and settles into the groove as though it’s always been there, as though it’s found its natural home.  Only the soft cotton of his sweat pants separate them, but they are thin and worn and Stiles can feel the burning heat of the thick shaft that presses into him. 

 

Stiles trembles uncontrollably when he feels soft velvet brush against the exposed dimples above his ass, he knows he’s got dimples because he’s checked out his butt in the bathroom mirror too many times wondering if Derek likes it.. if he wants a piece of it.  God almighty.. it leaves a hot wet stripe over his lower back, then again and again. 

 

Something deep inside twists hard and tight as Stiles realises it’s the head of Derek’s magnificent cock that’s brushing against him, marking him with Derek’s pre-come as his wolf grinds into him in a rhythm that Stiles’ body recognises and tries to follow.  Pushing back as Derek pushes forwards.  It makes his cock throb and he can feel it leaking pre-come.

 

“Stiles.. God I want you so much.. so much..”  Derek’s hands are big and warm and yet they still make him shiver like he’s freezing.  He’s got them running all over Stiles’ back and sides, down his flank to drag fingertips over the sensitive area at the back of Stiles’ knee even through the cotton fabric, which makes his legs twitch uncontrollably.

 

Those same hands slide in between Stiles’ chest and the cushion he’s lying on, one curls up and over his chest to grip his shoulder and the other slides up Stiles’ throat to cup it, splayed fingers stretch to caress his jawline and the scattering of moles there.  Thumb resting on his wildly racing pulse. Derek props up Stiles chest and shoulder on that side to rest against his forearm and bicep.  He’s slightly twisted, slightly uncomfortable but the moment Derek’s mouth seeks and finds his, tongue parting his lips to delve inside he feels nothing but pure pleasure.

 

Derek’s kissing him and it’s hot and wet and so good that Stiles thinks he’s just going to fly apart, come undone from all the sensations that are assaulting him so violently.

 

The hand on his shoulder grips tighter and Derek starts to rut against him.  His cock and his tongue are pressing harder, deeper and rubbing against him so wonderfully that Stiles whimpers because it’s so good and he wants more.. needs more..

 

_‘Derek.. please.. want you.. need more.. give me more..’_

_‘I’ll give you what you need baby.. I’ll make it so good.. you’ll never leave me..’_

_‘Never..never.. just more.. please’_

 

“You’ve come back to me baby..  God, I want to fuck you so bad.. knew you’d come back.. you always do.. ”  Derek’s breathing is harsh and his grip is painful as he literally drags Stiles body back and forth beneath him.  The friction on Stiles’ cock trapped beneath him is painfully blissful, he’s so hard and aching.. he needs to come.. needs to so badly that he bites down on the nearest thing to him.  Only aware that it’s Derek’s arm when he hears an approving growl against his ear.

 

_‘Yeah that’s it..  bite me Stiles.. mark me make me yours.. need it want it.. everytime I close my eyes.. you’re there.. making me want you.. more and more..’_

 

“Don’t leave me.. please.. don’t leave me again..”  Derek sounds desperate and almost frantic as he grinds more and more forcefully.  Derek’s saying it almost like..

 

“Derek I’m here.. I’m here..”  Stiles whispers, reaching up behind him to grab the back of Derek’s head, fingers tangling in the soft black hair and he’s twisting so he can see that Derek’s eyes are screwed tightly shut.

 

“Open your eyes and see.. this isn’t a dream..”

 

_‘Can’t.. don’t ask.. don’t ask.. hurts..’_

_‘Please Derek.. trust me..’_

 

“No..no..no.. I can’t.. you’ll leave.. you always leave.. I open my eyes after and you’re gone.. and I can’t..”  Derek grabs hold of Stiles’ shoulders and flips him over all too easily with his werewolf strength.  He slips between Stiles’ thighs and cries out as he presses his hard cock against Stiles’ not even able to take the time to tug his sweat pants aside he’s so desperate wanting to feel them slide together even if there is cotton between them. 

 

“You feel so good.. so good baby.. it’s like.. it’s like coming home with you.. everytime..”  Derek gasps out.

 

“Derek.. I love you.. love you so much..”  Stiles feels almost delirious with love and lust coursing through him.  Derek **_has_** changed since he last saw him.  He’s more beautiful than ever, his face it’s thinner through the planes of his cheeks and his clean-shaven jaw looks more firm and solid.  If he was a beautiful boy before it is nothing compared to the man he is now and Stiles swallows hard at that realisation.. Derek is a man, he’s cast off the softness of youth and possesses the power and strength of a grown man at full maturity.  It’s evident in the shoulders that are broader and more heavily muscled than he remembers, in the grooves and dips of his chest and abdomen that move and stretch and bulge in ways that make Stiles shudder in dry-mouthed longing.

 

Derek drops his head burying it in the side of Stiles’ throat, he can feel Derek’s mouth suckling and nibbling on his flesh, on the cord of tendon that is so sensitive that Stiles is torn between holding him closer or pulling him away the sensations are too much.  Stiles moans as Derek sucks on one spot, the small area of padded flesh that connects neck to shoulder and he shivers, not able to stop, his nerve endings are too sensitised.

 

_‘Thank God you’re 18.. I don’t think I could’ve waited any longer.. need you so much baby..’_

_‘What?.. Derek I’m 16.. you know that..’_

Derek growls heatedly and starts rocking and sliding their cocks together harder and harder until Stiles is seeing stars.

 

_‘Don’t tease me.. not about that.. I’ve waited so long.. wanted you so bad.. I’ve been going insane.. love you so much..’_

 

The weight and heat of Derek’s body is an aphrodisiac to Stiles he can’t help but writhe beneath the man he loves, the feeling of his cock pressing and rubbing against him is driving him wild and he does the only thing he can, he hangs on. 

 

Derek growls harshly as Stiles’ legs wrap around his leanly muscled hips and pelvis that are ploughing into him in increasingly harder yet uncontrolled stuttering thrusts, when he wraps his arms around Derek’s shoulders Stiles clings tightly and starts to push back.  To drive his hips up and into the thick cock that features so often in his dreams.

 

“Stiles.. fuck baby.. I.. gotta.. need to..”  Derek groans deep and gutterally when Stiles does a particularly vicious jabbing thrust upwards.

 

“Derek.. open your eyes.. look at me..”  Stiles fingers tangle in the other man’s hair and tugs hard, even that makes Derek groan with pleasure.  Stiles can see hot burning colour stripe across Derek’s high cheekbones and nose, there’s a rosy flush from his chest and up his neck.

 

_‘God I’d let you do anything to me.. anything and it would be good.. so good even if it hurt..’_

_‘Fuck.. Derek.. you can’t say shit like that to me.. uuhhhh.. open your eyes.. open them so I can see that it’s you.. please for me.. this isn’t a dream..’_

_‘I don’t want to wake up.. let me stay..’_

 

“I can’t.. please don’t ask me too.. I don’t want to stop.. don’t want to.. don’t want you to go.. why do you always leave me?  What did I do wrong?... tell me please..”  Stiles lifts his head pain tearing through him at the heartbroken confused Derek before him. 

 

Stiles kisses him slowly, lingering on licking at his lips, pushing gently with his tongue asking for permission to delve between them.  When it’s granted he kisses Derek with everything he is.. everything he has, tongues rubbing and stroking against each other.  So when the sharp bite comes Derek is startled and jerks back a pained noise escaping him, his eyes flash open as he licks his bottom lip that Stiles has bitten so hard, almost drawing blood.

 

For the longest time Derek simply looks at Stiles, seemingly cataloguing every detail.  Stiles can only imagine what he looks like.  T-shirt pushed up exposing his chest and pelvis, his neck a myriad array of hickeys and red chafed skin they just have to be there from the way it feels sore and aching, lips kissed puffy and swollen.  He licks those same lips and Derek pushes his hips forward before coming to a stuttering stop, looking into Stiles’ eyes, his own shadowed with guilt at his body’s instinctive response.

 

“Stiles..”  His voice is shaky and Stiles can feel how the older man’s body is trembling wildly above him.  He reaches up and pulls his beautiful bewildered face down to his and kisses him gently, running his tongue over the lip that he injured with soft little kitten licks.  Derek groans softly. 

 

“Stiles please.. you’re here.. how.. why are you in my bed?”

 

“Derek this isn’t a dream.. and you’re on my couch.. in my house.. remember?”  Stiles feels worried as he looks into Derek’s pupil blown eyes. 

 

“Did I.. did I hurt you?”  His voice is a hoarse whisper, horror is stripping back the lust dark pupils to pinpoints allowing his natural silvery green to shine through.  _‘Like last time..’_

“No.. and you didn’t hurt me ‘last time’ I’ve told you that before..does this feel like I’ve been objecting to anything we’ve been doing..”  Stiles runs his foot up the back of Derek’s calf to the back of his knee and it’s obviously as sensitive as Stiles’ because Derek’s shivering in his arms.  The movement causing their cocks to rub and Stiles grips onto Derek’s massive shoulders tightly, digging his fingers in and tilts his head back and moans. 

 

“Fuck.. Stiles..”  Derek’s eyes have shifted to crimson as they trace the long line of Stiles’ neck and Stiles wants his mouth there, he wants Derek to bite him.. needs him to.  It makes him twist and writhe below the heavy weight of Derek’s body and he likes it, likes that Derek can so easily pin him down.. can manhandle him into any position he wants.  A spurt of pre-come bursts out of his cock and he shivers.  Derek’s nostrils flare and he drops his head to Stiles’ neck and licks.

 

“Bite me Derek.. come on.. give me your mark.. wanna wear it.. want the world to know who I belong to..”  Derek’s shuddering violently, growling and panting above him his eyes blaze like fire and his fangs have dropped and Stiles is reasonably sure that was unintentional.

 

“Stiles please.. for God’s sake have some mercy on me..”   He tries to push himself off and back, but Stiles is having none of that and he clings to his wolf, like a baby monkey does to its mother.  When Derek is kneeling upright on the couch so is Stiles and he’s pushing against Derek’s hands that are trying to keep him at a distance.  Tries to ignore the fact that Derek’s naked in front of him.. naked and Stiles needs to touch him so badly.  Derek’s big heavy cock is dipped towards him from its sheer weight and Stiles can feel his mouth water as he sees the purple tip peek-a-booing him from within its hood of foreskin, revealing its glistening slit.

 

“Don’t push me away.. please..”  Stiles begs.  He’s not above using unfair tactics when it comes to Derek.

 

“Please..”  He says again soft and breathy, opens his eyes big and wide, praying that they are glistening and dewy like fucking Bambi’s if he’s lucky.. because Derek won’t be able to..  Derek reaches out and grabs him and hauls him close his arms wrapping around him.. resist.

 

“I’m sorry Stiles.. I don’t know what happened.  I’ve not changed forms in my sleep since I was a kid.”  Derek pulls back slightly, concern and worry etch his face with frown lines.  His eyes bleed the red away as they change to his beautiful green ones, even they look darker than normal.

 

Great.  Now he feels guilty, knows he has to tell Derek.

 

“Uhmm about that.. I don’t think that was you Derek.”  Stiles drops his head, eyes averted, because now he’s thinking about it, what if Derek really doesn’t like this ability that Stiles seems to have?  He knows Derek’s a bit of a control freak, everybody has issues some of his he doesn’t even like to think about, as for his mate, Stiles is very aware that he has a deep-seated need to be in control.  Considering his past, being chained up by Kate for starters, it’s not too surprising.  What if he doesn’t want to be around Stiles because of it?  He can’t bear the thought of that.

 

“I think it was me.  You were having a nightmare and when it was over as I went back to sleep, I think I saw a golden glow behind my eyelids, thought I was dreaming.   I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to do it.. it just happened.  I think I wished you back as a human.”  He huffs out the last.  Still not brave enough to face what surely must be contempt or horror on Derek’s face, Stiles keeps his face averted.

 

“It’s just that last night I dreamt that you held me in your arms and I.. I wished for that again.”  Hears Derek give a big heaving sigh.

 

“Thank God you didn’t wish me into becoming a frog.”  Derek cups Stiles chin and drags it around so Stiles has no choice but to look at him. 

 

“Then again, you’d have to kiss me.. isn’t that how it goes?”  Derek lowers his head until his beautiful stern mouth fits over Stiles and parts his lips.  It starts out slow and all too quickly it’s hotter and wetter and Stiles’ head is reeling and Derek’s growling, chest vibrating against Stiles’ body.  Stiles runs his hands over the muscular dips and valleys of Derek’s back letting his fingers trail teasingly down his spine to the crack of his ass where they flutter before darting away and Stiles has grabbed Derek’s tightly muscled ass in both hands and squeezes. 

 

Derek groans into his mouth, one hand sliding up Stiles’ back to cup the back of his head, to keep it steady under the increasing pressure that Derek’s kissing him with.  The other slides down until his hand slips all too easily under the loose waistband of Stiles’ sweat pants and his hand is so big and Stiles’ ass is so firm and tight that he easily rubs both cheeks with flat palm and splayed fingers.

 

Stiles is struggling to breathe, Derek’s been relentless in kissing him, he’s almost starting to feel light headed.  He pushes at Derek’s shoulders almost panics when he thinks maybe Derek’s not going to pay him any attention, but eventually Derek lets go and Stiles feels momentarily dizzy as his starved lungs readjust to actually having any oxygen contained within them. 

 

He slumps heavily against his strong mate as he tries to catch his breath.  Panting heavily, his forehead resting on Derek’s chest, he slides his hands from where they’ve still been gripping the wolf’s ass, following the curve of his hip and down until they rest on his hard, muscular thighs.

 

“What am I doing?.. Stiles I.. I’m going to change into my full wolf.”  Stiles tilts his head up to see Derek’s face which is grim and hard, eyes shadowed as Derek watches him struggle to catch his breath.

 

“No.. please don’t.”  If he has to beg he will.  “Please Derek.. please.  Stay with me.. just for a little while.”   A shiver racks through him. 

 

“I don’t think I could go another year without seeing you.. without touching you..”  He can see Derek about to speak and he holds up his hand and presses trembling fingers against his mates’ lips. 

 

“I love you no matter what form you’re in.. but I miss you.  I miss you holding me in your arms.. I miss you kissing me.. I miss feeling your skin against mine..  I.  MISS.  YOU.  Derek I’ve missed you so much.”   A choked noise breaks out of his throat and he hadn’t even realised it was there until it burst out.

 

This is his truth Stiles can acknowledge it now, for the past couple of years he’s been running on memories and precious objects that he pulls out of his treasure chest and examines each one intently for hours on end.  He’s handled and scented Derek’s shirt so much that it no longer smells like him and it breaks Stiles’ heart and yet he still can’t stop himself running his face over every inch of fabric to see if he can find even the smallest trace of the other man.  He didn’t realise himself how close to running on empty he was.

 

 _‘Oh Stiles.. baby.. I’m sorry.. so sorry..’_   Stiles winces because he’s let his control slip and he knows that Derek’s caught the drift of his thoughts.  He grabs Stiles’ hand and holds it between his, like it’s a lifeline.

 

“This isn’t what I want for you.. you know that don’t you.  I just want you to be happy.  Sometimes I think it may have been better for you if we’d never met.”

 

“Don’t say that.. don’t.  It makes me ill to think of what might have happened if I’d ignored that voice in my head all those years ago.”  Stiles shudders.

 

“I’m so happy that you didn’t.. you didn’t know what you were getting into though.  I can’t seem to keep my hands to myself when I’m around you.”  Derek gives Stiles a small wry smile that pierces Stiles’ heart with its sweetness.

 

“I’ve no secrets from you.. you know everything about me including my dreams.  Dreams of you.. when you’re 18 and we can be together.”  Derek sounds breathless.

 

“What if they weren’t dreams?”  Stiles shifts forward slightly can see the pupils in Derek’s eyes expand and his chest moves faster with his breathing. 

 

“What if we made some of those dreams come true?”  They’re both kneeling on the couch and Stiles reaches out with a trembling hand and lightly brushes his fingers over Derek’s rippling abs.  It makes his cock pulse when he sees Derek’s stomach muscles quiver at his touch and his heavy cock bob up and down in encouragement.

 

“Stiles.. I.. don’t think..”  He begins roughly.

 

“No.  Hear me out first.. please.”  He insists.  “You’ve protected me over the past 6 years, I know that.  Protected me even from yourself.  But, I’m 16 Derek.  You don’t need to anymore.  Not in that way at least.”

 

“You’re so young Stiles and it’s still a crime in this state.”

 

“I’m 16 the same age you were when we first met and if I remember correctly you knew straight away, didn’t you?”  Derek huffs out a sigh.  “Give me the same courtesy to know my own mind.  If I’d been 16 back then what would’ve happened?”

 

Stiles tilts his head curiously as he moves forward, watches the other man.  Derek drops his head and a slow flush rises up his chest and throat to stain his cheeks a vivid red even the tips of his ears glow and it all blends in perfectly with the crimson of his eyes.

 

“Stiles..”  He says harshly.  “If you’d been even a few years older nothing would’ve stopped me.  I would’ve been on you and in you so fast.. it wouldn’t have mattered where we were or who was there.. I would’ve made you mine and never let anyone take you away from me.”  Derek’s chest is heaving, his mouth slightly open to let out the fast choppy breaths he’s making.

 

Stiles is stunned, he didn’t quite expect an admission like that and his cock swells even more, so suddenly it’s made it harder than he’d ever felt it before, his breathing hitches as his lungs freeze momentarily at the pleasurable surge of blood to his sensitive flesh.

 

“You’ve tried to let me have a normal childhood, doing the stuff other kids do.. but Derek don’t you know that this is what other kids my age do..  they experiment.. they touch..”  Stiles reaches out and brushes a fingertip over the hardened nub of his nipple, Derek hisses like he’s been burnt. 

 

“They fool around.. make out.. that’s what 16 year olds are doing round the state, round the country.. the entire frickin’ world Derek.  That’s what teenagers do.. so you’ve given me a normal childhood.. if you want me to have a normal teenage life then this is part of it and I’m pretty sure you don’t want me to.. ‘experiment’ with anyone else so it’s gotta be you, my boyfriend’s gotta help me learn.”

 

He doesn’t jerk back when Derek pushes his face towards him, his fangs are dropped and his eyes glow even hotter than before, burning hot coals within the shadowed sockets of his eyes.  His jealousy is a tangible thing between them and it makes Stiles stomach tighten and coil.. it does things to him.. knows it’s so not PC these days.. the jealous boyfriend shtick but it’s so hot, he melts.

 

_‘No one else Stiles.. it’s just me gets to see you like this.. it’s just me gets to touch you.. mine.. you’re mine I’ll kill anyone else for even trying..’_

_‘Easy.. I don’t want anyone else you big furball.. only you.. it’s always been you.. but I don’t want to turn 18 and.. and be totally ignorant.. I don’t want to not be able to please you.. or you please me..’_

_‘You could never not please me Stiles.. everything you do.. the way you talk.. the way you smile and laugh.. the way you touch me.. it always pleases me.. everything you are pleases me..’_

“Oh that’s it..”  Stiles can’t take anymore.. he needs his wolf so bad.

 

Stiles grips the bottom of his t-shirt and slowly pulls it up, hearing Derek choke out “Stiles” while his vision is blocked and it’s off and he’s throwing it on the floor.  Derek’s blazing eyes are flicking all over his torso and his chest is moving with his breathing, in and out, harder and faster with every second he looks at Stiles.

 

_‘So beautiful.. so beautiful.. don’t deserve you..’_

“Stop that.  Of course you deserve me.. just like I deserve you.”  Stiles hooks his thumbs into the top of his sweat pants all the time looking directly into Derek’s eyes so he can see how serious.. how determined Stiles is. 

 

“Derek did you know that there are many countries around the world where 16 is the age of consent?”  He tries to maintain a cool façade as he talks even though his insides feel like jelly.

 

 _‘Stiles..what are you doing?.. Stiles..’_   There’s a desperate edge to his thoughts.

 

He tugs the waistband down and feels the slap of his cock on his belly as the elastic that’s hooked on the tip suddenly releases him, it’s like his cock’s springloaded.  He shimmys out of the rest of his sweat pants and hears a muffled groan from Derek who’s facepalmed himself with one hand, hiding his eyes.

 

“Australia.. France.. United Kingdom.. they can’t all be wrong Derek.”  Is that his voice?  He rolls his eyes at himself, he’s gone so squeaky because they’re both completely naked now.. together.  The first time ever and it’s.. perfect, embarrassing but perfect.

 

“Well it’s still 18 here Stiles.. so unless you want me arrested..”  Derek drops his hand from his eyes and sucks in a harsh breath when he sees Stiles is completely naked, except for the bracelet with the green stone that never leaves his wrist.

 

 _‘Oh my god.. look at you.. so beautiful.. wanttotouchsobadly.. hurts..’_ Derek moans softly.

 

“Look I know you want to wait until I’m 18 and okay.. much as it pains me to say it you’re probably right.. Sheriff’s kid if my Dad had to arrest you not so hot I don’t know how we’d get past that one if ever with him.. plus monster cock that I’m almost positive will never fit anywhere inside me.. but there’s other stuff we can do.. right?” 

 

“What other stuff?”  Derek asks warily.

 

“This morning.. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea of what you were going to do before my Dad interrupted.”

 

Derek’s face flushes red again and Stiles can feel his own cheeks heat up.  Either this was going to work or Derek was going to shoot him down in flames. 

 

He surges forward so suddenly that Derek tips back, he’s still up on his knees so he frantically grabs the back of the couch with one hand and the arm rest behind him in the other.  His thigh muscles are taut with the stretch and his hips are tilted forward and it just pushes that big perfect cock up and out and Stiles is gonna die if he doesn’t touch it right this very minute. 

 

He reaches out with a shaking hand, hovering over the hardened flesh before looking up to see Derek’s face.  The older man’s gnawing on his lower lip so hard that Stiles wouldn’t be surprised to see blood very shortly, but he’s watching from under heavy hooded lids that give him a dark satanic look that sends Stiles’ heart rate skyrocketing.

 

“Can I?”  Stiles asks huskily.  Derek’s just looking intently at him, releases his lip thankfully not bleeding, before he speaks. 

 

“Rules.. has to be or..”  He blinks and it’s only because Stiles is so very aware of Derek that he knows that it’s slightly longer than the normal unconscious response.  That Derek’s taken that fraction of a second longer to think. 

 

“You.. we can stop at any time.. if we don’t feel comfortable doing something we say so.. we stop.. if.. if I try to touch you.. uhmm back there.. stop me..”  Stiles can almost hear the unspoken ‘if you can’ that accompanies those last few words.

 

“Okay.”  Stiles says hoarsely, nodding his head up and down so rapidly it’s a wonder it doesn’t come off.

 

After a long, long moment Derek doesn’t say anything just nods, yes.  Fuck yeah.. Stiles is jubilant.

 

_‘Yessss.. mate.. touchmetouchmetouchmetouchme..please..’_

 

He lowers his still hovering hand and gently brushes his fingers over its length and the noise that comes out of Derek’s throat.. fuck it makes his own cock jerk violently and pulse out beads of pre-come. 

 

Stiles realise that with the position they are in on the couch that he’s inadvertently appealing to Derek’s Alpha nature, he’s crouched lower from where he’s swung one leg off the couch his foot touching the floor, he likes that thought.  Presses a kiss to the middle of Derek’s chest between his hard pecs, he’s hovering over the broad expanse of solid pale flesh and he’s drooling so hard because he just doesn’t know where to begin.

 

“You’re so hot.”  Stiles’ lips feel like they’ve brushed against living flame.  He can see the quirk of Derek’s eyebrow. “In every sense, but your body temperature it’s.. wow!!”  Stiles puts his palm on Derek’s chest right above his heart and feels the heat against his hand and the violent rapid pounding that’s going on under his sternum.

 

_‘Fuck.. need you so bad.. Stiles..need to touch.. but can’t.. can’t control myself..’_

_‘Yes you can.. I trust you.. trust yourself..’_

 

He reaches across and grabs Derek’s hand that’s gripping the arm rest so hard that Stiles is in actual fear that his wolf is going to snap it off, tugging on it so he lets go, Stiles drags it up to his chest until he’s got Derek’s hand pressed against his own thundering heartbeat.

 

They stay there for the longest time looking into each other’s eyes, honey amber meeting green hued ones, and simply feel what they do to each other.  It seems to Stiles that they do it for so long that their separate heartbeats merge and fuse until they become one.  They are in synch.  Stiles realises that they are not only matching beats but their breathing is becoming one as well, inhale.. exhale.. inhale..  Stiles feels so connected to Derek right now that he can’t imagine what it will be like when he gives him the claiming mark.  God help him, he’s not entirely sure he’ll survive it if it’s more intense than this, but he’s going to give it a good try.  His cock is throbbing almost painfully.

 

_‘Derek..I.. I don’t think I can live without this..’_

 

“Stiles..”  Derek’s voice is low and hoarse.  “I.. you know how I feel for you.. it’s more than sex right?”  At Stiles’ slow confused nod he continues.  “Good because I love you so much.. but please.. please touch me I.. it.. I need you to so bad..”

 

Stiles gaze flutters down and he gasps aloud.. if he thought Derek looked hard before it’s nothing compared to how his cock appears now.  It’s so swollen and vibrantly red with heat and blood that Stiles knows that his poor mate is surely going through agonies and needs relief desperately.  Needs him desperately and doesn’t that thought stoke the burning heat running through his veins, fuels it until Stiles thinks that he’s actually going to ignite and go up in flames.

 

He shuffles back and drops down onto his knees on the floor, he’s a bit too close because Derek instinctively surges forward and almost pokes his eye out with his hard cock.

 

 _‘Sorry.. sorry.. please Stiles.. please..’_  

 

 _‘S okay..’_   Stiles is breathing hard, the puffs of air against Derek’s cock makes it twitch in front of him.  He reaches up with one hand to steady it wrapping his fingers as far around the thick shaft as he can and gently pulls the foreskin down until the deep red bordering on purple head pokes out exposed to the cooler air.  He hears all the breath in Derek’s lungs get expelled in one long sighing exhale.

 

Bringing his mouth closer he ponders on the logistics of giving someone a blow job, sure he’s watched it on heaps of porn, but this is real and had he mentioned Derek’s big.. really big and he’s hot and heavy.. oh my God he’s holding Derek Hale’s cock in his hand and he’s about to stick it into his mouth. 

 

Momentary panic threatens to lock his muscles, turn him into stone.. oh yeah that’s great.. he can see his Dad coming home in the morning and he and Derek stuck in this very position. Get a grip Stilinski.. a smirk crosses Stiles face as soon as he thinks it and almost instantly he feels better, seeing the humor in the situation.  Tells himself there’s no rush, just do what feels good.. what feels right.

 

Parting his mouth he lets the soft velvet head brush against his lower lip before he drags it across the upper one.  He sweeps it over and over his lips like he’s seen how the girls at school apply lipgloss, can feel moisture coat his lips and pulls back slightly to run his tongue over them tasting Derek.  It’s so delicious that he can’t help moaning.

 

“Stiles.. fuck.. please your mouth..”  Flicking his gaze upwards Stiles can see that Derek’s slick with sweat, his muscled chest gleams and his cheeks are red and shiny, eyes glowing hotly down at him avidly watching every movement of his lips and tongue.   Holding Derek’s eyes he stretches his mouth wide over the fat mushroom-shaped head letting it sit there for a moment just absorbing the taste and texture, the sensation of having his mouth so full, so stuffed with Derek’s cock it makes him tremble.

 

It seems to take Derek a nano-second to make the connection between what he’s seeing with his eyes and what he’s feeling on the sensitive velvet skin.  When he does he bucks and jerks wildly, rising up and down on his knees, seemingly undecided as to whether to push closer for more or pull away because it’s too much.   He’s whining like the wolf he is and it’s long and loud, revealing how close to the edge he is, hovering between man and wolf.

 

Stiles places his hand flat on Derek’s abdomen and gently strokes him, soothingly.  He’s not moved his mouth but saliva is starting to pool not to mention the pulse of pre-come that’s just burst across his tongue and he has to swallow and that little suckling movement of drinking down the fluid in his mouth is enough to have Derek growling.

 

“That’s it baby.. suck me.. suck my cock..”  Stiles feels his scalp prickle with sensation as goosebumps race across his naked body from head to toe.  It’s just so hot, what Derek says and how he says it, the sound of the couch frame creaking from where his wolf is gripping it so hard.  The taste of Derek in his mouth and the hot fat head filling his mouth.  His own cock twitches hard and he’s got his own pre-come smearing across his belly and thighs.

 

He pulls off gasping and Derek growls in protest pushing his hips up and towards Stiles, he flicks out his tongue and swipes across the head letting the tip of his tongue delve as deep into the slit as he can seeking more of that taste, more of Derek’s intimate flavour.  He can see the muscles in Derek’s thighs twitch. 

 

Stiles sucks the head back into his mouth and starts to bob his head up and down, letting the head push in and out with distinctive smacking pops.  Derek starts to pump his hips and the motion moves Stiles hand where he has it lightly wrapped around the base and he remembers seeing that often in porn movies when the guy has a huge cock that often their partner would jack them as they sucked.  Derek’s thrusting so forcefully it’s just on the verge of making him gag, he feels it ease slightly when he firms his grip and has the width of that hand as a barrier to Derek’s cock making an intimate introduction to Stiles’ tonsils.

 

There’s pre-come and saliva sliding down the length of Derek’s cock, slicking the way for Stiles fist.  It’s wet and maybe a bit sloppy but he loves it.  Loves going down on his boyfriend.

 

_‘Derek you taste so good.. I wanna to do this all the time.. wanna suck you forever..’_

 

“God Stiles.. I’m not going to last long.. it’s too good..”  Derek’s groaning the words at him and Stiles is proud and excited all at the same time.  He’s doing this to Derek.. he’s making him feel so good.. he’s the one making Derek groan.  He puts all his concentration into blowing Derek so he never ever forgets this first time.

 

Stiles drags his mouth from the tip to mouth down the sides of the thick column of flesh, letting his lips and tongue flutter and caress up and down on all sides.  His own cock is a throbbing ache his thighs are slick with pre-come that’s been pulsing out of him at a steady rate and he knows that he’s right on the edge.  He’s so aroused.. so turned on that he daren’t touch himself not even with a fingertip because he’d come and then it would distract him from what he’s doing.  Loving Derek with his mouth.

 

“Stiles.. I’m.. gonna..  if you don’t wanna.. “  Stiles moves his mouth back to the head and suckles even more enthusiastically Derek’s groaning and growling all at the same time and it’s hotter than hot.  Hips pumping.  When he moves his hand from the arm rest and places it on the back of Stiles’ head not pressing just running his fingers through his hair, it’s the feel of claws scraping against his scalp, the tiny pinpricks of pain bordering on pleasure that sends a prickling wave of heat from the top of Stiles head and surging throughout his body and he’s coming.  Hard.

 

Jets of come shoot up his belly and the body racking squeezing pulses that ripple out from his balls to the tip of his cock leave him breathless and slack mouthed around Derek’s cock that is still pushing past his gaping lips.

 

His eyes had squeezed shut at the intensity and the disorienting white out of his vision where he can’t see but his eyes are open.  His lids flutter feebly and Stiles automatically looks at Derek.  Feels his stomach clench hard at the intense burning look Derek’s giving him.  It’s so full of hunger that if Stiles didn’t know Derek so well he would be afraid of being devoured alive.

 

_‘Look at you baby.. so beautiful.. coming so hard so perfect.. gonna come.. Stiles I’mmmm…’_

“Uhhhhh..”  It’s a long moan that leads eventually into a howl and Stiles eardrums feel like they’re going to burst at the sound.  It echoes around the room, feels like everything’s vibrating to the pitch and tone, it’s not a mournful wolf cry.  This is the joyous, triumphant vocalisation of mating and pack, and hunger about to be sated.

 

Derek’s cock jerks in Stiles mouth and he reflexively snaps his lips shut around it so it doesn’t pop out and feels hot spurts of fluid filling his mouth he swallows over and over but can’t keep up he’s gonna drown or choke so he opens his mouth and lets it dribble out down and over his chin.  Stiles doesn’t know if it’s a particular werewolf thing or poor Derek’s been ‘backed up’ for a long time but there’s a lot of it.  Bucket loads he’s starting to suspect.  Feels it splash onto his chest and doesn’t that just make his own cock give a feeble twitch in sympathy.  A huzzah to a fellow cock getting off.

 

Derek’s still thrusting, hunched over him as though in protection and need.  One clawed hand clasping the back of his head and the other cups his jaw and his thumb is swiping over Stiles’ chin and pushing come back into his mouth letting it slide in next to his still hard cock.

 

Stiles feels ruined in the most delightful way and yet Derek’s still as hard as ever.  His eyes are glowing red, he’s partially turned, fangs dropped the tips pressing into his lower lip and the claws are still extended.

 

“I guess we failed Laura’s test.”  He doesn’t even recognise his own voice anymore, it’s a hoarse rasping whisper.

 

Derek reaches down and all too easily lifts Stiles up off the floor and onto his lap, back to chest.  He drags his claws lightly through their come that’s marking Stiles torso and swirls it together before reaching up to put those dripping fingers against his mate’s lips.  Stiles willingly opens and starts to lick and suck carefully around those claws tasting Derek’s wild tang and his own slightly bitter salted.

 

“Don’t care..”  Derek says just as hoarsely before crashing his lips against Stiles and pushing his tongue deep inside his mouth to lick and suck their combined flavours off Stiles’.

 

_‘Good..’_


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek are together after their intimate time. But feelings and longings that have been suppressed for such a long time are not so easily put aside and the urge to mark and claim their mate strikes both of them fiercely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well good God - I've written so much I've had to split it into two chapters seriously. And the floodgates have opened and I can't stop writing the porny sexy times, considering I had such trouble with it last time this is vaguely ridiculous.
> 
> My thanks as always goes to so many other fans and writers of this wonderful fandom who give me such great support with their thoughtful and often scarily insightful comments and kudos.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - alone but not lonely

“Well aren’t you two just the biggest pair of sad sacks I’ve ever seen.”  Laura walks up to where Stiles and his wolf are sitting underneath the shade of one of the big trees that surrounds the stark burnt out shell of the Hale family home.

 

Stiles can see her nose twitch as she scents them both.  His stomach clenches tightly as he wonders just how pissed she’ll be when she realises..

 

“Derek’s claimed you.”  Then as he watches, her face lights up and a smile of such heartfelt delight stretches her wide mouth as she turns to look at the wolf who sits next to him and nudges him in the side with her knee.  “About time you loser..’ 

 

Derek makes a low grumbling noise in the back of his throat and Stiles can tell it’s only half-hearted.  Dropping down to sit on Derek’s other side she reaches around the big black wolf to give Stiles a light punch on his bicep.. light for her still makes him wince.

 

“Owww..”  He rubs his arm.  “What was that for?”

 

Derek’s up on his feet in an instant standing between them and he’s seriously growling at his sister, baring his fangs in warning.

 

_‘Stiles.. hurt..’_

_‘It’s okay Derek.. she’s just messing around.. really..’_

 

Laura ignores her growling sibling entirely.  “Oh Stiles, don’t be such a baby.. that was a congratulatory ‘you did good bro’ love-tap.”

 

She must be able to see Stiles’ doubting expression, from around the furry body between them because she continues, her dark eyes sparkle with mischief above the gleaming white teeth from the wicked grin she gives him. 

 

“You managed to get the stick out of my baby brother’s uptight ass.. which I’m sure was quite an achievement.. and get him to finally claim you.”

 

Laura waggles her dark winged eyebrows at him lecherously.  “You must be goooooood..”

 

Stiles can’t help it, he’s simultaneously blushing furiously going by the heat that’s coming off his cheeks and laughing at Laura’s words and the look on Derek’s wolf face, which he’s getting to know his expressions fairly well now.  If he’s reading him right Derek’s equal parts haughtily annoyed and seriously embarrassed.

 

Not that they had anything to be embarrassed about, Derek’s claimed him and Stiles lifts his hand and rubs the back of his neck.  It just feels so right.  He knows that there isn’t a mark visible, it’s healed as part of the process, but he can feel it.. Dear God can he feel it.  Just brushing against it lightly and he’s shaking with want.

 

Derek collapses abruptly on his haunches and whines, looking over his shoulder at Stiles with dark hungry eyes.

 

_‘Mate.. minemineminemine.. need you’_

_‘Love you Derek so much..’_

“Get a room you two..”  Laura smirks at them both.

 

 

The previous night, not even the mention of his sister was a deterrent for Derek and Stiles was glad.  

 

He cups Stiles’ cheek and holds his face slowly turning it to his as his tongue plunders into the moist cavern of the younger man’s mouth, seeking and licking out their combined come.  Humming softly in approval as he does it.

 

_‘God I can taste us.. together.. it’s so good baby.. so good..’_

_‘Derek.. Derek..’_   Stiles is so blissed out he can only think Derek’s name over and over on an endless loop and just how good he feels.  Wrecked, but oh so good.

 

Derek has him sitting on his lap, their legs tangled and Stiles can feel Derek’s still hard cock pressing into his back.  It burns like a brand and Stiles feels sure that he will carry the mark with him forever and he’s good with that.

 

Wants Derek’s mark.  Wants to be claimed.  Possessed.  Owned.  And he wants to do the same to Derek in return.  To know that the wolf is his, in every way possible.   Legal.. illegal.. natural and supernatural.  He’s gotta claim him.   It’s a powerful, instinctive need, he can only guess that it’s tied to their mate bond, filtering into him from Derek somehow.  He’s gotta do it.  Soon, can’t deny it much longer.

 

“You’re still hard.”  Stiles mouths the words against Derek’s jaw as he twists on the older man’s lap to nuzzle kisses against his chin and neck.  Wraps his arm up and around the back of Derek’s neck holding him, keeping him close.  Can feel his ass rub against the burning length as he shifts.  Derek’s pubic hair isn’t coarse, it feels soft against his sensitive skin, tickles his ass and balls making him fidget restlessly.

 

“Uhhhh yeah… do that.. do that again…”  He grabs hold of Stiles’ hips guiding him.  “I’m a werewolf.”  Derek says on a gasp as if stating a fact will tell Stiles everything he wants and needs to know.  Bizarrely though Stiles does get it.  The werewolf is a supernatural creature after all and if he’s got a refractory period of zero, well colour him so not surprised.

 

 _‘Thank you.. thank you.. that was.. perfect before.. I know you didn’t want to..’_   Stiles is pressing sweet kisses all over Derek’s face, darting here and there, laughing softly as his wolf chases his mouth with his own.

 

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice is firm and.. hungry.  He reaches up and captures Stiles’ chin between his thumb and forefinger, stopping him from escaping his mouth.   

 

“Are you mad?  Didn’t want to..”  He snorts.  “I always want you.. you’re as necessary to me as breathing.. I just couldn’t.. couldn’t quite let go of that need to protect you.. I forget sometimes that you’re growing up.”

 

He slowly moves his head closer and Stiles can feel his heart hitch and his breath stop.. or is that the other way round.. he really can’t be sure.  All he can be sure of is the way he feels when Derek’s beautiful mouth is pressing against his.  He feels desired and wanted, but most of all loved.

 

Derek’s calmed down enough that he’s back to his human appearance and Stiles cups his strong jaw and lets himself be drawn into the fang-free kiss.  Their tongues meet and Stiles is surging up and into Derek’s mouth with his own and Derek groans, the vibration travelling between their lips and it feels like it’s travelling down Stiles’ throat and into his very innermost being and it sparks something deep inside him. 

 

_‘Stiles.. love you so damn much..’_

_‘Love you Derek.. love you..’_   He can feel it welling up within him, that feeling and he knows it’s the magic he has inside him and it’s reaching into Derek through their kiss and twining around his heart, connecting their two beating organs.  The glow flares and it’s not just him, he can see that Derek is glowing as well.  They are both glowing with a golden light, it streams out of their eyes and mouths and Stiles feels so good, so loved and loving he never wants it to end.

 

Derek draws back slowly and his eyes are closed the lids fluttering rapidly.  Breathing harsh and fast as his nostrils flare. 

 

“Stiles I can feel you.. feel you inside me.”

 

When he opens them he looks at Stiles with something in them that makes his insides feel like jelly.  It is awe and love and when he looks closer, fear. 

 

“Don’t be afraid.. not of me.”  Stiles whispers, heart aching.

 

“Not afraid of you.”  Derek rumbles, pressing his face closer to the younger man’s.  “Afraid of losing this.. of losing you.”

 

“Never.”  Stiles insists.  “You’ll never lose me.  I’ll always find you Derek, if I ever get lost I’ll find my way back to you.  Always.”  He promises, drawing the older man’s head down and slides his tongue against his lips seeking entry and Derek moans opening wide and they’re kissing and the intensity of the love between them causes sparks to flash amongst the golden light.

 

Eventually, Derek pulls back and simply looks at Stiles, his eyes normally light and silvery are so much deeper and darker.  Malachite green flecked with streaks of gold.  The glow has pulled back to the faintest shimmer over their skin.  He examines every detail of his face, his eyes flickering over every inch until Stiles starts to squirm under the intense scrutiny.

 

“What?  Why are you looking at me like that?”  Can feel himself blushing an intense surge of heat blooming across his cheeks, knows that the skin there will be burning.

 

“How is it even possible?”  Derek murmurs his voice soft and almost sounding a little bit lost.  Stiles strokes the older man’s face, ignoring his own fiery embarrassment.

 

“Is what possible?” 

 

“How is it possible that you.. that you love me so much?  Stiles.. I..I can feel it.. feel it in here..”  He presses his hand to his chest where his heart lies under the strong rib cage and sternum.

 

“You’re asking the wrong question.  You should be asking how is it possible **_not_** to love you so much?”  Stiles rubs his thumbs over the slight rasp of stubble on his cheeks.  “And I would tell you.. I can’t exist without loving you. You’re a good man Derek Hale, I can’t help but love you.”

 

 _‘Stiles..’_   There’s a shaky edge to his thoughts and the look in his eyes..

 

Stiles rests his lips against Derek’s and brushes them back and forth, over and over, until they’re tingling and Derek just growls and cups the back of his head with a large hand and holds him in place while his tongue parts Stiles’ lips.  It slides into Stiles’ mouth and strokes and rubs and plunges into the wet heat making Stiles mewl softly and that sound seems to just crank something in Derek and he’s surging forward, crashing into the younger man’s body. 

 

His big warm hands are stroking all over Stiles, heavy and firm caressing and smoothing over his skin until he’s practically writhing on the older man’s lap.  Derek’s strong thighs and lean hips move and shift restlessly beneath Stiles, his thick heavy shaft, burning hot, grinds into him.

 

Stiles can feel his blood rushing through his veins, powered by the thundering beat of his heart.  The pulse in his neck throbs almost painfully and when Derek moves his mouth to lick and nibble there, he can’t control the whine that pushes out of his throat and past his clenched teeth.

 

“Spread your legs..”  Derek rasps, obviously senses his hesitation as he continues.  “Don’t worry I’m not about to..”

 

“Pillage my ass..”  Stiles concludes, unsure if he’s disappointed or not.  Then Derek’s manhandling him and that just does things for Stiles knowing that his wolf is so strong and could do anything he wanted to him.  Anything at all.  It pushes buttons deep within him, that has Stiles’ breathing getting faster and he can feel his eyelids getting heavy and slumberous.

 

Derek’s manoeuvring them into exactly the position he wants before he’s whispering into Stiles’ ear. 

 

“Close your legs.”  Stiles realises as he closes them, that the hot thick shaft of flesh that’s been pressing into his back is now securely in place between his thighs.  There’s so much come, pre-come and saliva on Derek’s cock and what’s already on Stiles’ thighs that when Derek starts to move, pushing his huge cock through the tight clasp of his legs, it’s slick and smooth.   

 

Derek’s so big that Stiles can see the red bulbous head poking out between his legs, just behind his tight ball sac, in a sexy-as-hell version of peek-a-boo.  Makes his own cock which is lying flat to his belly twitch and smear another pulse of pre-come on his stomach.

 

“Fuck… yeah baby.. that’s it.. gonna fuck you.. fill you up with my come..”

 

Waves of heat crash over Stiles.  The way Derek speaks to him when he’s caught up in the same wash of heat and the grind of their bodies pressed together just burns.  Can feel his stomach muscles clench and quiver at the low rumbling growl that is Derek’s voice.

 

Pinpricks pierce his skin at his hips and Stiles moans.  He’s starting to realise a lot about himself when he’s with Derek.  With him intimately.  There’s an edge that Stiles likes to ride and it’s one that hovers on a borderline where a little bit of pain gets him going..  gets him off if he is honest.  That Derek’s gripping his hips, his claws digging into his flesh to let him rut between his thighs, pushing his big cock in and out with increasingly harder snaps of his hips has him moaning aloud.

 

 _‘Fuck Derek.. it’s so good.. need it.. need it so bad..’_   There’s one miniscule part of his brain.. his consciousness that steps back and sees himself writhing and groaning wildly, completely enraptured by all the sensations and feelings that Derek draws out of him and feels nothing but pure amazement at his body’s responses.

 

 _‘Touch yourself baby.. God you smell so good..’_   Derek’s nuzzling his neck and ear, licking and nipping, as he looks down over Stiles’ shoulder and Stiles can’t help himself.  It sounds like such a good idea and he starts at his nipples lightly brushing over them, watching them harden before he pinches the little nubs.  He groans.

 

 _‘That’s it.. such pretty little nipples.. God I wanna taste them so bad..’_   Derek’s trailing his mouth over the back of his shoulder and nuzzles into the crook of his neck, nibbling and sucking hard at that spot that sends shooting sparks down Stiles’ spine.  He licks and sucks and lightly chews the flesh until Stiles has no seeming control over his head at all. 

 

It’s all floppy and loose, just lets it roll as he watches his own hands run down his belly into the cool slick fluid that coats his flesh and rubs it in.  The scent of come hits him between the eyes it’s so strong and it makes his groin flex and twist at the knowledge that he wants more.  More come.. more Derek.. just more.

 

He lifts his hand, it’s coated in their combined fluids.  Turns his head slightly so Derek can see clearly and starts to lick at his fingers.  Tongue flickering out to taste. 

 

 _‘Fuck.. Stiles..’_   Derek’s hips surge more powerfully and his thick cock is pushing between Stiles’ thighs with increased urgency and it’s contagious, burns like a fever.  Stiles reaches down and grabs his own cock and starts to stroke with his free hand, with each stroke down he stretches his arm just a little further and makes sure that his fingertips brush past his high tight balls and he’s touching the slick tip of Derek’s cock as it emerges between his thighs. 

 

Derek trembles beneath him and the noise he makes, the huffing keening sound has Stiles’ cock pulsing in almost sympathy because it’s all too good.

 

It’s instinct that makes him do it.  Something intuitive that has him reaching up with his come coated hand and drags his slick fingers over the nape of his neck, leaving smears behind.  Wonders if he’s made a mistake when Derek stops dead.  Freezes in place.  His thick cock throbs unmoving between his thighs.

 

Stiles can feel his heart thumping wildly beneath his breastbone.  Has he misjudged, misunderstood that instinct entirely.

 

 _‘Stiles.’_   There is a tone in Derek’s voice that he’s never heard before and it makes him shiver.  This is his Alpha.  This is the Alpha speaking to his mate using the bond between them.  Derek presses his face close to where their combined come coats the nape of Stiles’ neck and Stiles can hear the harsh breaths that Derek makes as he scents him deep into his lungs.

 

When he feels Derek’s tongue swipe over that spot on the back of his neck, he can’t control his body, he’s jerking and twisting at the sensation that threatens to overwhelm him entirely.  He feels electrified.

 

Derek pins his hips in place and resumes his thrusting but it’s harder on the upthrust as though he’s seeking to be as deep inside Stiles as he possibly can, even though he’s not within his actual body.  He licks and nips at Stiles nape and goosebumps shoot across Stiles’ shoulders down his torso and along his extremities.  He feels like he’s one giant open nerve, raw and exposed.. exposed to whatever Derek wants him to feel.

 

 _‘Derek.. please.. come on.. come on..’_   Stiles is a surging, writhing mass that Derek all too easily conquers, has possession of his movements and all Stiles can do is obey and ride it out.  Derek nips sharply at the back of his neck before soothing it with the hot drag and slide of his tongue.

 

 _‘Suck on those fingers Stiles.. those come-slick fingers.. for me..’_   Derek’s breath catches in Stiles’ ear, when Stiles immediately obeys, has his fingers in between his swollen lips.  Not just one, not just two but three sucking and licking on them so he can taste their flavours.  Moans low from deep in his chest.

 

 _‘Derek.. please Derek.. you know what I want.. give it to me.. ahh  fuck yes...’_   Derek latches onto the back of his neck, sucking on the delicate sensitive flesh so hard and passionately that Stiles almost comes there and then.  Manages to rein it back in by gripping the base of his cock, wants this to last forever.

 

 _‘What do you want Stiles?.. What can I give you?’_   Derek’s thrusts have quickened and he’s growling, fingers flexing on Stiles’ hips making the younger man moan as the claws prick in and out of his flesh with every pounding movement.

 

 _‘Give me your mark.. I want it.. want everyone to know who I belong to..’_ Stiles can feel himself shaking, he’s so close his hand’s resumed pumping his cock, his fingers plunging into his mouth.  His legs tighten involuntarily as all his muscles tighten.. he’s so close.. Derek’s hips are starting to stutter, his fingers grip so tightly onto Stiles’ hips he can almost hear the bones creak.

 

 _‘Yes.. fuck yes.. gonna put my mark on you Stiles.. gonna make you mine.. everyone’s gonna know you’re mine.. mine.. only me.. only I can see you like this.. ’_   With a last long sweeping lick of the nape of his neck, Stiles shivers as he feels Derek’s warm breath panting against the wet mark for the longest moment.. the wait is a torment can feel his skin twitch in anticipation.. and then Derek strikes. 

 

His fangs pierce Stiles flesh and he screams Derek’s name, but he’s not in pain.  Not much and what there is he.. he likes it.

 

When Stiles looks back at this moment he knows there will never be anyway to describe it, not that he would because it’s so intensely private.. so intimate between them that he could never share this with anyone else.  Stiles is caught in the middle of a lightning storm, a whirlwind that rages around him.. buffeting him from all sides not the very least from inside his own body.

 

Stiles can feel his consciousness being drawn out of him.. it’s like a new network of nerve endings has been created with the bite.  A network that connects him to Derek and he’s flowing into the other man can feel all the sensations that Derek is, can feel Derek entering his mind and body the same way, knows that he’s experiencing everything from Stiles’ point of view. 

 

Stiles can feel the racing thumping beat of Derek’s heart as the blood rushes through his veins, the taste of sweet copper in his mouth where he’s latched onto the nape of Stiles’ neck.  The ache of his fangs buried deep into muscle and flesh.   The surging inhalation of air through his nose carrying Stiles’ scent deep into strong lungs that expand and fill with oxygen.  God.. if that’s how he smells to Derek he’s lucky that the other man isn’t attached permanently to his throat simply to inhale that intoxicating scent of vanilla and citrus.

 

Through Derek’s eyes he can see through a filter of red and he can see things so sharply and clearly like it’s broad daylight, even though he knows the room is dimly lit.  He can see everything.  The breadth of the shoulders in front of him is a surprise.  The curving defined muscle leading from shoulder to bicep is a beautiful arc that hints of strength beneath the lean form.  He’d realised he’d changed due to the lacrosse and the weight training, but until seeing it through someone else’s eyes he’d not known how much.   He’s more toned and defined than he’d realised.  The skin beneath his hands, Derek’s hands, is soft and smooth, where it brushes against the rest of Derek’s body is a delight and a torment all at the same time.

 

He can feel every muscle and sinew throughout Derek’s powerful body, how he stretches and strains as the pleasure and hunger that he feels for his mate burns him alive.  The ache of his throbbing cock is so great, such a delicious want it makes the strong abs that are now under his command tighten, he’s barely held in check.  Hanging on by a thread from pounding and pounding, driving up and into the slender body in his lap.  He never knew before exactly how much Derek needs him and now he knows.. it’s beyond mere human comprehension, that they are entwined now body and soul is just barely enough to satisfy it.

 

Stiles whimpers through Derek’s lips and with that he’s snapped back into his own body and consciousness, he can feel the tension in his own body, knows that it’s about to break.  Knows that Derek’s back in his own as well, has experienced the same earth-shattering intensity of the bite.

 

_‘God.. Stiles.. you want me like that.. need me so much.. I.. I didn’t know.. thought it was just me.. fuck gonna come baby.. you’re gonna make me come..’_

With a desperate shuddering groan, Derek’s coming.. coming hard between his legs.  He can feel the vibrating growl of release that Derek makes against his neck.  He makes two more deep thrusts before the fiery red tip is pushed through to its furthest extent between his thighs and holds it there. Stiles can see through the slits that are his eyes the hot white streaks of come that pump out forcefully high into the air before falling and splattering all over his legs and groin.  Feeling that liquid heat on his cock has Stiles’ back bowing as he comes with Derek, his hand clenches convulsively on his own cock and he can feel the bulging swell of his come rise through the shaft until it’s spurting out of the tip, fresh and hot spattering over his abs and chest.

 

 _‘I love you Derek..’_   Stiles’ magic bursts out of him wild and uncontrolled and slams into both of them, golden light flooding the room and it brings out another orgasm in them both.. and then another.. then another.. until there’s no more fluid they are gut-wrenchingly dry, but the pumping jerking sensations in their cocks and groins keeps going.. feeling just as good.. just as intense.  More so.  It goes on and on.

 

If Stiles had any moisture left in his body he’d be crying at a pleasure so great so intense it’s verging on agonizing.. it’s too much.. too good.. he’s gonna die if it doesn’t stop soon. 

 

Derek releases his bite from Stiles’ neck and he lets loose a long howling cry that is his mate’s name into the air and it echoes Stiles feelings of love and hunger and a need that will never ever abate, not in this lifetime or all their shared lifetimes to come. 

 

He can feel his head tipping to the side as he does the only thing possible in a situation like this.. he blacks out.

 

 

When he wakes, Stiles finds himself curled towards Derek in his bed.  They’re facing each other and Derek’s amazing coloured eyes are fixed on him so intently that Stiles gets the feeling that they’ve not drifted away an inch from watching him.  The sheets cover them and he feels clean and cosy warm.  He has a vague distant memory of a dream, more a sensation really of being carried in the rain.  Derek must’ve held him in the shower and cleaned him up. 

 

Blinking rapidly he realises Derek’s left the lamp switched on at his desk, giving him enough light to see.  His throat is dry.. so dry that he can almost feel it cracking from the lack of moisture.  Struggling to sit up, Derek’s there in an instant holding him.

 

“Easy.. slow down.. don’t want you to pass out again.”  He settles Stiles against his chest, wrapping his arms around the younger man, propping him up and reaches across to grab the glass of water sitting on the bedside table.  Presses the glass to Stiles mouth and he’s swallowing, letting the water rehydrate all the dried out cells in his mouth and throat, the relief is almost instantaneous.  He pushes the empty glass away and catches his breath.

 

“What..”  His voice is so cracked he gives up speaking and reverts to their mate communication.

 

 _‘What happened?’_  

 

 _‘You fainted.. how are you feeling?  Dizzy.. sick.. We need to get fluids into you, you’re dehydrated.’_   The look of concern on Derek’s face warms Stiles inside and out.

 

 _‘No feel okay.. just tired..’_    Derek looks at him for a long time before hauling him close and burying his face against his neck.

 

 _‘You scared me baby.. I.. you were so still.. thought you’d stopped breathing..’_   There’s an edge to his thoughts and the way that he’s cradling Stiles so carefully.. like he’s fragile and Stiles knows that Derek is speaking the truth.  He had been afraid and if Stiles doesn’t handle this well he’ll be lucky if he gets Derek anywhere near him ever again.

 

 _‘You just like the thought you made me come so hard I blacked out..’_   He snickers and sighs inwardly when he sees Derek’s expression hasn’t changed.

 

He rolls towards him, slides his leg between the other man’s and tries to drape himself across his muscular body.  Derek holds him back, gently but firmly.

 

_‘Stop.. you need to rest..’_

 

 _‘What I need is to feel you.. please Derek..’_   One thing that Stiles has always been certain of is that Derek finds it hard to resist when he begs and pleads with him.  The dominant wolf has a weakness for apparent submission in his mate and Stiles is not above using that knowledge.

 

“Please..”  He whispers huskily, before letting his head drop and he’s nuzzling and rubbing his face against Derek’s, up and down, over and over.  Letting little whines and soft moans escape him as he scent marks Derek over and over.  “Need to.. be close to you..”

 

Derek groans and pulls him in tight, letting their two bodies press against each other.  He runs his lips up the side of Stiles’ throat making him gasp aloud and whispers against the whorl of Stiles’ ear with hot breath.

 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing..”  He nibbles the rim of his ear.  Breath hot and burning against Stiles' lobe and neck.

 

Stiles pulls back to smirk down at him.  “Good.. I don’t want you to mistake my intentions for anything but what they are.”

 

“What intentions are those?”  Derek asks breathlessly.

 

“To love you with all of me.”  He presses his face into the side of Derek’s throat, content to breathe the other man in as he twines his fingers with Derek’s.  Drags his hand up and kisses the back of Derek’s knuckles.

 

The heat of Derek’s body, the feel of skin on skin and the ebb and flow of his breathing has Stiles’ eyes drooping, he jerks trying to keep himself from drifting off to sleep.  They’ve only got such a short amount of time together he doesn’t want to waste any of it.

 

Derek doesn’t help when he starts to smooth a hot heavy hand up and down his back.

 

“Don’t.. don’ wanna..sleeeeep..”  Stiles slurs his words as his eyes close and are so weighted down he can’t open them not even a crack.

 

“Shhhh.. it’s okay Stiles..it’s okay..”  Derek’s voice is low and soothing and Stiles lets go and drifts 


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning Derek and Stiles are surprised to learn of a new development in the claiming mark. Laura also has a plan for the future which she presents to the mated couple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is the rest of it - you can see it would've been way too long for a single chapter with over 10k.  
>  
> 
> Part of the dialogue in the later stages of this chapter is from Episode 1 Season 1 of Teen Wolf of which I hold no rights to and am purely envious of.  
> That said - you should know that there is a canon-compliant scene in this chapter, but it does not mean I am following canon I will continue this fic on a divergent path I just really liked this one and it leads into the rest of the work really well in later chapters.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed - alone but not lonely

The next time he opens his eyes a sharp pang pierces his chest.  His room is a lot lighter and it’s coming from outside.  Damn.. damn.. damn he’s slept nearly the whole night away.  Although it's still too early for his Dad to be home yet.

 

Somehow, he’s ended up on his side, his head pillowed on Derek’s bicep.  Mesmerizing green eyes shot through with silver watch his every movement, his every expression with an intensity that makes Stiles’ groin twitch.  Stiles gets the very distinct impression that Derek has been watching him for a very long time.

 

“Good morning.”  Derek’s voice is husky and there’s a note in it that sends tingles down Stiles’ spine.

 

“Good morning.”  He feels almost shy, remembering everything they did.. everything he did last night.  A sweeping flush of heat rises rapidly up his chest and neck to flood across his cheeks until they burn.  He presses his face into Derek’s chest, embarrassment making him want to hide away.  He feels Derek’s lips on the top of his head pressing into his hair and forehead, he’s insistent and strong enough to nudge Stiles’ head back without hurting him.

 

When they’re looking into each other’s eyes again, Derek wraps his arms around Stiles.  His large hands running over the length of his body.  He can’t seem to stop touching him and Stiles is so okay with that it’s not funny.

 

“You were amazing last night.. are amazing..  I can’t believe how much you love me..”  Derek leans in and presses his lips against Stiles’.  Doesn’t do anything more than just rests them there.

 

 _‘Don’t be embarrassed.. I love you so much Stiles.. thank you for loving me..’_    His heavy hand follows the curve of Stiles’ spine up to his nape and Stiles howls at the sensation.  His limbs tremble and jerk wildly as Derek’s fingertips brush at his claiming mark.

 

“Derek.. for God’s sake.. please..”  Stiles feels out of control, there’s a high pitched noise vibrating in his ears and..  and shit it’s coming from Derek.  He’s keening long and loud, a hungry predatory expression on his face as he looks down at Stiles.. and how did he get on top of him he wonders..  it makes Stiles’ belly cramp and his cock twitch and throb. 

 

Looking at his mate’s face, Stiles realises that Derek’s eyes are not just solely red anymore like before when his Alpha nature is dominant.  They are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen, the dark pupil at the core with a ring of fiery red encircled by a second ring of gold.  The red and gold bleed into each other and Stiles feels an incredible surge of lust and possessiveness rise within him until his head is spinning at the instinctive knowledge of what he’s seeing.

 

“Mine.”  He snarls the word at Derek as his hand wraps around the back of Derek’s neck and he’s dragging him down to crash their mouths together.  With a strength that he doesn’t even know he possesses he’s wrestling Derek down trying to roll on him and pin him down.

 

“Your eyes.. Stiles fuck.. your eyes..”  Derek’s growling at him and he’s hauling him up so that they are kneeling before each other.  It makes him pause for just a moment and then he can feel that connection, that network of nerves that they formed for the first time during the night and he doesn’t hesitate grabs hold and he’s in so easily and looking out through Derek’s eyes at himself.

 

His hair short though it is, sticks out framing his face which is flushed bright pink and he can see his mouth is a snarl revealing white teeth and it’s.. it’s hot and kinda scary not like when he pretends in the mirror this is real.. he’s watching himself lose his humanity.  He can see his eyes are the reverse of Derek’s, black pupil ringed with gold and fringed with red fire.  He pulls back with a suddenness that is disorientating, back into his own body.

 

“What’s happened?”  Derek’s face is taut with concern and much as Stiles would rather be pulling the other man beneath him he knows he can’t let Derek worry any longer.

 

“I claimed you.”  He watches for Derek’s reaction, unsure of what his wolf will think or do with that knowledge.  As always when feeling uncertain he starts to talk.  “My magic.  Last night when you marked me, my magic claimed you right back.  The feeling’s been there for a long time I didn’t know what it meant, that I could even do it. I just thought it was our bond, me feeling what you felt.  But, seeing your eyes this morning.. I knew.”

 

He pauses breathless.  “You’re mine Derek.. no one elses.. mine and mine only..”

 

Derek’s silent and unmoving for the longest time and then he starts to smile and it’s.. it’s fucking breathtaking.  Stiles swallows hard as Derek shuffles closer until their knees touch.

 

“Yours.. I’m yours.. always..”  Derek reaches out and grabs Stiles arms, his fingers curling around his biceps and he leans down and he’s kissing him.  Kisses Stiles breathless before whipping him around and dragging him back into his chest.  Derek’s cock is hard and pressing into the crack of his ass, Stiles presses back against him, his own cock bobs heavily between his thighs. 

 

Stiles shudders feeling Derek pant against the bite mark on his neck.  It feels sensitised to the edge of pain, the simple rush of air over it makes him shiver.  He wails uncontrollably at the first brush of Derek’s tongue over the mark.  Derek licks the wound on his neck over and over, the rhythmic caress sends tremors rippling through both of their bodies.  Stiles may carry the mark but they both feel it.

 

Stiles feels all the strength leach out of his body and he collapses forwards, both hands grip the cotton sheets as he strains to hold himself up.  Prickling heat rushes through him as he realises exactly what position he’s in.  Derek is unmoving behind him.  So still that Stiles is unnerved by it, starts to pull away when Derek grabs hold of his hips.  Tight.

 

“Stiles.”  Derek’s voice is so distorted and strangled with need that Stiles struggles to recognise his own name from his mate’s lips. 

 

“I have to..”  He pushes his hips forward and Stiles groans deep from his gut at the feel of that hard massive cock rubbing against the cheeks of his ass.  “Have to move.. Stiles God.. you feel so good baby..”

 

Derek’s surging against him so powerfully, his cock hot and leaking pressing into the cheeks of his ass hard and Stiles arms are shaking so much that he can’t keep himself up any longer and collapses forward.  Derek growls and pulls back and runs a large finger down the crack of his ass and presses lightly against the pucker of his entrance.  That galvanizes Stiles into action so quickly and swiftly that Derek doesn’t have time to react as he throws himself forward and rolls over to face his mate.

 

There’s a dark look on Derek’s face and Stiles can tell he’s not happy at being denied.  He grabs Stiles thigh ready to drag him back and over.

 

“Wait.. wait.. Derek remember you told me not to let you.. not back there.. remember..”  Stiles gulps as he looks at Derek’s shaft, huge and visibly throbbing.  He can’t drag his eyes away from it.  “Derek?”

 

Derek closes his eyes and tips his head back, breathing hard and fast through his open mouth.  His beautifully sculpted chest and abs move with each breath in a way that makes Stiles’ mouth water.  God, his mate is a sight to see.. a beautiful man, inside and out and he loves Stiles Stilinski.. wants Stiles Stilinski in every way there is possible and the teenage boy can only look in awe and love as his mate struggles to fight his own baser instincts to  protect him and keep his vow.

 

For the longest time Stiles rests quietly against his bed and watches as Derek tries to restrain himself.  It does things to him deep inside knowing that he wants him so much.  His cock pulses and Stiles moves the hand that’s been resting on his belly, lets his fingertips rake through the soft hair that trails in a line from his belly button to his cock where it flares out and around making a soft nest of curling sable hair for his balls and cock.

 

He flicks his thumb over the slit and his lungs freeze at the wash of pleasure that floods over his cock from tip to root and he can feel his balls contract and tighten.  With a soft groan he watches his hand clasp his shaft tight and then he’s moving his fist up and down it’s hot length.  He thrusts, hips pumping and he closes his eyes, head tipped back as he savours every stroke, every movement.

 

When slick wet heat covers the tip his hips jerk wildly and out of control, opening his eyes in shock Stiles can see Derek crouched over his groin.  The head of his cock is in his mouth and Derek’s brilliant red and gold eyes are burning into his as he dips his head to take more of Stiles into his mouth.  Stiles can feel his eyes are open wider than they’ve ever been in his life as he watches Derek’s cheeks hollow with the sweet suctioning pulls he makes on his throbbing cock.

 

_‘Tastes  good.. Stiles your cock it’s..it’s beautiful..’_

“Fuckin’ hell.. damn it.. suck my cock Derek.. suck it please please..”  Stiles can feel sweat break out on his forehead and his upper lip as he tries to push his cock deeper into Derek’s mouth. 

 

Derek’s still in Alpha mode and with a growl he grabs Stiles’ ankles and spreads his legs wide, his thumbs circle the prominent bones in his ankles and it’s soothing and not, all at the same time.  Derek lays down between his spread legs and starts to nuzzle and lick at his ball sac at the same time dragging Stiles’ thighs over his shoulders.  He moves up and breathes in deep as he presses his face hard into Stiles’ pubic hair.

 

_‘Fuck.. you always smell good.. but here.. fuck.. there’s nothing like it..’_

 

Stiles is twisting and writhing on the bed he can’t stand it.  Derek’s breath, his hands and mouth, his fucking tongue are all killing him, he’s sure of it.  There’s only so much his poor cock can take and he’s pretty much reached that limit now.  Derek presses one large hand on his abdomen and it’s enough with his strength to keep him pinned there.

 

“Hold your cock.”  Derek growls at him.  Nudging Stiles’ fingers further down to wrap around the base and keep it pointing upwards.  His eyes spark hotly with gold and red flames as he kisses the tip, Stiles breath hitches raggedly as he watches.. there’s no way he’s missing this. 

 

Derek slowly.. slowly parts his lips and lets the head press into the wet hot cavern of his mouth.  His tongue slides hot and heavy against the band of tissue at the underside and he rubs it relentlessly making Stiles twitch all over, the rest of his body seemingly connected all too intimately with his frenulum.  He lifts his head releasing Stiles with a pop.  Derek’s breathing is just as fast and hard as Stiles is.

 

“Derek..” 

 

“Stiles..”  They say at the same time.  They share a look, one of understanding and intimacy and Stiles can feel his heart swell and beat so hard in his chest.  How on earth did he get so lucky?

 

_‘I’m not going to last..’_

_‘You’re not going to last.. you’re not going to last.. holy fuck Derek everything you say and do.. God you just make me want you more and more..’_  Stiles can’t control himself he strains with everything he has against Derek’s hand which is still holding his pelvis in place, until Derek relents enough that Stiles can brush his cock against the other man’s lips.  With a gut-wrenching moan Derek swallows the head and slides his mouth as far down as he can until Stiles can feel his tip hit the back of Derek’s throat.  Through slitted eyes he realises that Derek’s fucking deep-throating him, how the hell does he do that and can he teach him?

 

Derek’s nostrils flare dragging air into his lungs and then he’s bobbing his head up and down Stiles shaft.  He varies the suction and the speed so Stiles can never settle into a rhythm it keeps him on a delicious edge and sometimes he swallows him down to Stiles’ knuckles at the base and other times it’s just swirling round and round the sensitive head with his tongue.

 

The bed shifts and creaks loudly beneath them and Stiles flips out knowing that Derek’s grinding into the mattress as he sucks and sucks and.. fuck..

 

 _‘Derek.. I’m gonna come.. Jesus.. I’m coming..’_   Derek just sucks harder and that acceptance, that knowledge that Derek wants his come.. wants to swallow it down has Stiles’ back arching and his hips pushing up in one final hard thrust.. his fists tightly gripping the cotton sheets. 

 

He’s pumping his come down Derek’s throat and Stiles has come to the conclusion that there just has to be a God.. because he’s just found heaven, through the mouth of his lover.  A shiver chases down his spine.  Lover, so much more appropriate now than boyfriend after all they’ve experienced together.

 

 _‘You taste so good..’_   Derek continues to suckle him through the aftershocks that make his abdomen clench tight as his muscles clamp down and try to draw every single drop of his come out of his body.  Derek rests his head on Stiles’ hip, still gently holding Stiles’ softening cock in his mouth.  Stiles reaches down with his hand and runs his fingers through the soft black hair, letting his short nails scrape against Derek’s scalp.  Derek moans in approval the vibration travelling through Stiles’ cock and dragging out another small pulse of come.

 

 _‘Yum..’_   Derek flicks his gaze up towards Stiles’ and he can see there’s a smile wrapped around his cock.

 

_‘Are you going to be letting go of my cock anytime soon?’_

_‘Uh uh..’_

_‘Okay.. but what if I want to.. reciprocate..’_

_‘Too late..’_

_‘What?.. Ohhhh.. that’s.. that’s really hot.. damn..’_   Derek lifts his head letting Stiles cock fall back onto its nest of pubic hair.  Concern lightens his eyes that have still been glowing hotly.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“I’ll have to do the sheets again and if my Dad finds out..”  At Derek’s quirking eyebrow that he just knows is saying ‘so’ he’s entitled to feel slightly vindictive at the cause of his sheets needing another wash.  “If I have to sit through another father and son talk about masturbating and sex addiction then you’re going to be there with me buddy.”

 

Horror sweeps across Derek’s face as he obviously envisions it.   Then he looks at Stiles speculatively.

 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days Stiles.. what have you been doing to get your father so.. concerned?”  Stiles sighs heavily.  Heat burning across his cheeks and ears.

 

“I told you I missed you.  A lot.  A real lot.. okay..every day.  More than once.. or twice or.. okay forget it.. and Dad surprised me a couple of times.. on the same day..”  Stiles is so embarrassed until Derek tilts his head up and looks into his eyes, his cheeks are striped red too.

 

“Oh.. uhmm.. if it makes you feel any better.. I.. uhmm Laura’s threatening to buy tissues and lube in bulk.. says it’s cheaper..”

 

“Yes.. yes that does.”  Stiles meets Derek’s eyes and he smiles and then they’re laughing, arms wrapping around each other.

 

 

Stiles feels ill.  Derek’s going and after this weekend he just knows that things have changed so much between them that it’s going to be ten times worse being parted from each other.  He knows Derek now.  Knows him intimately and how can he lose that?   How can he be away from him without losing his mind?

 

Sitting under that tree the three of them look at the burnt out ruins.

 

“You know I’ve been giving it a lot of thought.”  Laura breaks the silence.

 

 _‘That’s unusual..’_   Snarks Derek.

 

“Shut up nerd.. or I won’t tell you my brilliant plan.”  She waits a moment and Stiles thinks he should really record his wolf rolling his eyes, he’d make a ton of hits if he uploaded that vision onto youtube.  “I think we should come back to Beacon Hills.”

 

“What?”

 

 _‘What?’_ Derek and Stiles both look at Laura with rising excitement.

 

“Our pack is too small to be so separated from one side of the country to the other and Stiles needs to finish his schooling here..so Derek I was thinking maybe you could transfer from Columbia to Berkeley..”  Laura groans as she is bowled over to the ground by one excited black wolf wagging its tail enthusiastically as he licks her cheek over and over and one 16 year old teenage boy who hugs her tight.  Stiles peeks up to see Laura looking down at him with affection and sadness in her eyes.  He goes to speak and she just shakes her head, her arm locked around her brother’s neck and she nuzzles the top of his furry head.

 

“What about the hunters?”  Stiles asks, seeing as that was the main reason for them leaving in the first place. 

 

“I’ve been keeping tabs on the Argents through some connections.  Kate is moving onto France and her brother, Chris and his family is coming back here.  From what I understand he’s not a whackjob psycho like she is.  I’ve not met him, but he’s dealt with other packs I know very fairly.”

 

“I think we all seem to be in agreement then..”  Stiles hugs Derek and they both nod their heads.  “Stiles.. we’ll need to go back to New York to organize a few things though first.  I think maybe a couple of months and we’ll be back.”

 

“I don’t think I can talk.. I’m so happy.”  He pushes his face into Derek’s ruff and just holds on.

 

_‘I can’t believe it.. I’m so happy.. I love you so much..’_

_‘Love you Stiles.. love you mate..’_

They sit there for the longest time, Derek in the middle and Laura and Stiles have draped their arms over his huge furry back and hold onto each other’s shoulder.  Just looking at the house and dreaming.

 

“How did you get here by the way?  I didn’t hear a car.”  Stiles asks quietly.

 

“I left it closer to the road.  Wanted to walk across Hale territory again.”  She looks around the grounds that surround the house.  They look sparse and derelict.

 

“Sweet ride though.  They didn’t have a basic car at the rental place so I had to get a Camaro.”  Derek huffs in obvious disbelief. 

 

“Whatever lemonhead.  I think I might look at getting one.. we need a car out here.  Public transport isn’t so crash hot.  Not white though.. maybe red or black.”  She looks thoughtful. 

 

“Lemonhead?”

 

“He’s too sour for me to call him a ‘dickhead’ most of the time.”

 

“Come on he’s not a sourwolf **_all_** the time.”  Stiles feels the need to defend his mate.

 

“Stiles honey, you see a whole other side of my baby brother that I don’t even want to think about.”  She shudders dramatically. 

 

“Whereas, I get this.”  She does a pretty good imitation of Derek’s scowl while heaving her shoulders back and moves her arms like she’s strutting.

 

“And you get this.”  She makes a kissy kissy face towards Stiles.  He can’t help but laugh.

 

“I think I’m going to like having a sister.”  Stiles says when he calms down.  Laura sits back and her normal cocky expression is decidedly watery looking and she lifts a trembling hand to her mouth.

 

Stiles panics.  “I’m sorry.. I’m sorry Laura I didn’t mean..”

 

“It’s okay Stiles.  I’m happy.. I really am.. I just hoped you know, that one day whoever Derek mated with would look at me not just as pack but as family too.. and what do you know here we are and I’m blubbering.”  She smiles sheepishly at him.  “Some Alpha I am.. huh?”

 

“You’re the best Alpha.”  Derek’s voice is right behind them and Stiles and Laura both turn and throw themselves at him.  A very naked Derek smiles as he wraps an arm around each of them.

 

“Our pack.  The Hale pack is coming home.”

 

 

**_Three months after Stiles’ 16 th birthday.._ **

 

“I hope he left my inhaler those things are like eighty bucks.”  Scott’s crouched down rummaging through the leaves searching.  Stiles hovers over him, wondering where in the hell did he get the ‘lycanthropy’ theory from and why does it so oddly feel right.  A strange prickling sensation runs over his body like he’s being watched. 

 

He looks up and sees a dark figure standing between some trees about twenty feet away watching them.  He taps Scott on the shoulder indicating with his head the stranger, he tugs on the neckline of his t-shirt, uncomfortable and strangely warm too.  Getting hotter with each moment that passes.  Scott gets to his feet hurriedly and the two teenagers stand awkwardly for a moment. 

 

Stiles rubs his hand over his short hair, not sure where to look, because this guy is hot.  If you looked in the dictionary for a definition of hot, his picture would be there.  He’s dressed all in black.  Jeans, shirt and leather jacket.  It’s bad boy hot and he didn’t realise that would appeal to him.  He’s very much hetero and specifically of the Lydia Martin variety so this is.. weird.

 

 _‘Stiles.’_   The voice in his head is crackly, distorted, like a bad radio signal.  Stiles can’t breathe.  His hands start to shake.  _‘Bad boy hot huh?.. I was going to come around tomorrow and let you know that we were back.. so that’s enough about Lydia Martin..  you know I don’t like to be teased.. you’ll have to make it up to me.’_

 

Fuck.. fuck he’s hearing voices now.. what the hell?  Hang on did he take his Adderall this morning?  Or did he take too much?  Because side effects ya know, they could take all forms..  Was he seriously hearing this guy give him a sexy as hell come on?

“What are you doing here?”  _‘Didn’t I tell you to stay out of the woods?’  “_ Huh? This is private property.”  _‘It’s dangerous.’_

 

Hot guy walks towards them and Stiles can feel panic verging on sheer terror rising in him.  There is something seriously wrong.. really wrong.. he doesn’t know what it is exactly just this guy’s voice is familiar even though he knows instinctively he’s never heard it before, never seen him before.

 

“Uh, sorry man, we didn’t know.”  Stiles feels ill just looking at him.  _‘Stiles.. what’s wrong?  I can smell your fear.  Did I do something?  Are you okay?’_

Oh fuck what’s going on.  He can hear two conversations going on, the one out loud.. the sane one between people using their mouths and voices and then there’s the other one.. the one that makes him think he’s going crazy because it’s in his head.. he knows it is. 

 

Even weirder is the thought that he’s somehow hearing what leather-jacket dude is thinking.  He can’t disguise his distress, he can feel his mouth want to tremble and there’s a tension around his eyes that makes him want to squeeze his eyes shut tight.  He puts his hands on his hips, gripping tight to hide how much they’re shaking.

 

“Yeah we were just looking for something, but – uh forget it.  Uhm.”  Scott says and Stiles can tell he’s just as disturbed by the man in front of them as he is.  Maybe for different reasons, then again how does he know.  Maybe Scott’s having some sort of intimate Vulcan mind-meld with the guy too. 

 

How are you doing this?  Am I going completely insane?  Who the fuck are you dude? 

 

For the briefest moment there is something in the other man’s eyes, it’s raw and hurting and Stiles feels so bad that he almost takes a step forward to beg his forgiveness or something so he thrusts his hands into his pants pockets trying to quell the itching, burning need he has to reach out towards him.

 

_‘Laura.. where are you?  Come on I need you.. something’s wrong with Stiles.. he doesn’t remember me.. please Laura..’_

 

Hot guy pulls something out of his jacket pocket and throws it at Scott.  Stiles looks at Scott’s hand, he’s clasping his inhaler.

 

_‘Stiles I’ll come round and see you later okay?  Whatever’s going on baby we’ll work it out.. I’ll help you remember.. I’ve just gotta find Laura first.’_

Later.. later.  Holy fuck.  What’s going on and why did he feel a shiver in his very ball sac when he called him ‘baby’?  All he can do is watch as the hottest most intense man he’s ever seen in his life turns on his heel after one last lingering look that rakes Stiles from head to toe and makes his guts feel like quivering jelly.

 

“All right, come on I gotta get to work.”  Scott says and Stiles knows his best bud is trying to keep it together.  Too much weird shit’s happening for it to be a coincidence. 

 

Now that he’s not facing that intense scrutiny Stiles finally feels like his brain is working normally and considering where they are in the woods that border the old spooky Hale property he remembers a case his Dad worked on years ago, back when his Mom was ill in hospital.   He ponders over it feels his mouth going slack as he tries to remember.  The Hale fire.

 

“Dude that was Derek Hale.  You remember, right?  He’s only like a few years older than us.” Stiles slaps his friend on the chest.

 

“Remember what?”  Scott looks at him puzzled.

 

“His family.  They all burned to death in a fire, like ten years ago.”  Stiles feels a real pang of sorrow deep in his chest like.. almost like he fucking knew them or something, but that’s so weird ‘coz he was only a little kid then and it wasn’t ten years.. It happened within that last time his Mom was in hospital before.. yeah right so it was more like 6 years ago when he was about 10 years old.

 

“I wonder what he’s doing back.” Scott looks across the leafy forest floor to where the other man had disappeared amongst the trees.

 

“Ufff.. come on.”  Stiles walks away and he feels like he’s being drawn into and towards something that he knows with primal intuition is going to change his life forever.  


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles tries to find answers to what's happening to Scott and himself. When night falls he receives a terrifying visit that has him confused, scared and battling to find the truth of what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another epic piece and I've again had to split it into two chapters. 
> 
> Thank you to all those who commented on my last couple of chapters - to say that my inbox was flooded is not an exaggeration. It just showed me how much readers care about these versions of the characters and that it was painful for many of them that this journey that Stiles and Derek are on takes so many twists and turns. I just refer to that canon quote that seems so apt at this time 'when you're going through hell keep going'. 
> 
> Unbeta'ed - on the road less travelled

When Stiles drops Scott off at the veterinary clinic, Dr Deaton’s standing by the industrial waste bin black rubbish bags in hand, near the open delivery roller door. 

 

Scott gets out and stands next to the Jeep’s passenger door leaning into the open window, his back pack slung over his shoulder, his face is anxious and he bites his lower lip until it looks white and bloodless.  He’s been gnawing on it the whole drive from the woods to here.  That’s okay ‘coz Stiles seems to have developed a nervous itch on his wrist, can’t seem to stop rubbing and scratching at the area.

 

“Stiles if you can..”  He stops as if unsure of what exactly to say next, Stiles reaches across and pats Scott’s arm that’s draped over the door frame.

 

“I was gonna do some research anyway.  We’ll figure out what’s going on Scott, I promise.”  Scott nods his head, but Stiles can see his brown eyes are dark and shadowed, their usual good-natured sparkle is replaced by worry and fear.

 

“Mr Stilinski, how are you?”  Dr Deaton’s standing next to Stiles door peering in at him and for some strange reason Stiles can feel his heartrate increase.  He knows Scott really likes the town Veterinarian but for some reason he gives Stiles the heebie-jeebies.  Nothing ruffles him.  He’s too ‘Stepford’ by half, too smooth and controlled and for someone who isn’t.. that’s just unnatural.

 

“Yep.. good.. excellent in fact..”  Can hear the rising edge in his voice that borderlines hysteria.  Wonders what the older man would say if he told him the truth.  Excellent.. considering that I’m losing my mind, hearing voices and oh yeah by the way my best friend is possibly turning into something furry and will try and sniff my crotch and hump my leg on the next full moon. 

 

He doesn’t know why he’s so fixated on the whole idea of shifters and weres.  Maybe he’s been watching too much SciFi channel, but there’s something in the idea that rings true in his head.   He believes and he has no idea why.  There’s no proof.. no evidence.. nothing.. just this feeling. 

 

Stiles’ Dad would call it ‘gut instinct’ and he believes in it in spades, he’s been on the job for so long that he doesn’t question why he should pull a car over or talk to a particular witness over others, just does it and finds out the car’s loaded with drugs to do a cross-state run and that the witness is so nervous because they just happen to know the assailant.  His Dad has always told him to go with his instincts because more often than not they’re right, he says that often it’s the primitive part of our brain that’s spotted something our conscious rational one hasn’t.

 

Instinct.

 

Stiles believes what his gut instinct is telling him about Scott being attacked and bitten.  It was a werewolf and in a couple of days when it’s the full moon, his best friend is gonna turn.

 

“I’d heard a rumour that Wolfie’s owners are coming back to town.  We may see him again hopefully.”  There’s a look in Deaton’s eyes that says Stiles should know exactly what the hell he’s talking about but.. seriously, Wolfie??

 

“Uhhh.. Wolfie??”  He can’t help his expression, can see it reflected in the side mirror, mouth open and eyes and brows slightly screwed up like he’s thinking real hard, because he damn well is, and it’s sooooo not helping.  He doesn’t have a clue.  He grips his itching wrist with his other hand, lets his long fingers wrap around and just rubs, twisting his arm inside the ring formed by his thumb and forefinger.

 

“That’s great.  I’d love to see him again.”  Scott pipes in and now it’s his turn to feel the full force of Stiles’ baffled stare.  Stiles can see Scott’s face slowly change into bewilderment as he realises..

 

“You don’t remember Wolfie?  Come on dude, big black domesticated wolf.  You looked after him for a whole weekend.”  Stiles shakes his head slowly.  A trickle of fear slides down his spine. 

 

“Jesus, Stiles it was only a few months ago.. I don’t know who was more upset when his real owners showed up, you or your Dad.. your Dad was going to track them down and offer to buy him but you wouldn’t let him.. said it wasn’t fair to have a dog stuck at home when you and your Dad had school and work and couldn’t be with him.”  Scott’s got that little worry furrow thing happening between his eyebrows that Stiles thinks makes him look too cute for words, not that he’d tell Scott that, but sometimes he thinks Bambi’s more of a BAMF than his bestest bro.

 

“I.. Scott.. I..I really don’t remember..”  Fear has a taste in his mouth and it’s bitter and metallic and it makes him want to choke.  His eyes flash towards Deaton and he catches a look in his eyes that can only be classed as.. speculative.

 

“How did you get those scratches?”  Deaton asks and Stiles can only look at him in bewilderment.  What scratches?  “On the back of your neck Mr Stilinski.” 

 

He reaches out so quickly that Stiles doesn’t have time to draw away and when he brushes a light fingertip over Stiles’ nape, he nearly convulses right out of his drivers’ seat.  Body spasming violently and he can distantly hear Scott calling out his name.  The pleasure and pain that are seated right at the top of his spine is almost too much to bear and he can only sit there hunched over until whatever this shit is passes, grateful that his t-shirt and jacket are long enough to hide the boner he’s suddenly sporting.

 

“Maybe you should come inside Mr Stilinski.. just for a moment.”  The older man is looking at him intently and Stiles wants to squirm under that dissecting gaze and no.. no there’s no way.

 

“Stiles.. you shouldn’t be driving.”  Scott’s gripping the car door frame like he wants to tear it off and just reach in and grab his friend.  Stiles can’t though, he’s gotta get home and start researching.  Maybe he’ll start with these marks on his neck first.

 

“Thanks for the offer.. but I’ve gotta get home.  Dad.. the Sheriff’s probably waiting for me.”  That reminder of exactly who is Dad is, is for Deaton’s benefit.. just in case he’d forgotten.  He has to smile at Scott, his best friend.  They’ve each gotta tonne of weird shit coming down on them and they’re still more worried about each other, it’s written all over Scott’s face.  He gives him the standard ‘sup nod of farewell and starts the jeep.

 

“I’ll text you if I have anything.”  Stiles promises the dark haired teen who nods worriedly at him and steps back.

 

Stiles reverses, not looking at Deaton again, and peels out of the parking area like he’s gotta pack of wolves on his heels.  As he goes around the corner he hears something sliding around on the Jeep’s floor behind him, with everything that’s happened, the weird encounter with hot guy in the woods still playing over and over in his head and being with Scott he’d not noticed. 

 

Flashing a quick glance over his shoulder he sees a.. a shovel.  Is that dirt and grass on the blade?  What the fuck?  How did that get there?  He sighs deeply.  In the scheme of things really.. what’s one more mystery?

 

 

With his Dad working all hours because of the discovery of the body, Stiles had never thought of himself as the nervous bordering on hysterical type of teen who’s at home alone and every creak and groan of the house suddenly becomes some psycho serial killer looking to butcher and disembowel said teen. 

 

Tonight, however, feels different.  Anything is possible.

 

He’s checked the locks on all the doors and windows three times already and he still feels twitchy.  He’s done his homework and is trying to do some research on his laptop, but his eyes keep straying to his bedroom window and even though he’s hammered some nails into the frame, after his Dad left of course, he still feels vulnerable. 

 

Which is why he has a baseball bat lying next to him, it’s an old wooden one his Dad had tucked away in the garage leftover from many Police versus Fire Department baseball games over the years.  The win/loss ratio of which, he only uses when he really wants to piss his Dad off.

 

Giving up he switches off the laptop and the bedside lamps to lie there in the dark, uncomfortably still fully clothed, because again he didn’t want to feel vulnerable in his sleep pants and old t-shirt.  He hugs the bat to his chest.. eyes fixed on the window. 

 

When he’d gotten home late that afternoon, he’d raced upstairs to the bathroom and tried to look at the back of his neck.  He finally found an old make up mirror tucked at the back of the cabinet under the bathroom washbasin.  His Mom’s and it gave him a momentary pang at seeing it again, remembers sitting with her on his bed as she multi-tasked, applying her make-up to go out with his Dad to some police function while she listened to him as he read aloud from his school primary reader. 

 

He’d faltered in his reading that night, pausing frequently distracted as he watched, sure that there was no other woman who was as beautiful as his Mom.. he can almost feel the kiss that she’d pressed to his forehead when he’d told her that as he holds the small mirror.

 

After twisting and contorting he was able to see reflected back from the large mirror over the basin, not what he’d call scratches but five distinct puncture wounds.  The spread would be a match for a human hand.  A large one.

 

His own hovers over the wounds and he’s tempted to touch them again to see if he has the same reaction as at the clinic, but he doesn’t think he could go through another round of pleasure and pain like that.  One that makes his cock so hard that he doesn’t think he would need to touch it to get off and yet sends searing stabbing pain through the back of his skull until he would gladly bash his head against the wall just to make it stop.

 

He felt sick.  Something or someone had touched him and he couldn’t remember it.  Yesterday, he’d been mark free he was sure of it.  His Dad was too observant to let something like that go, which is why he changed into one of his plaid button ups with a high collar when he got home today. 

 

His Dad had still been in bed this morning catching a few zzzzz’s after searching the woods most of the night for the remainder of a body, so when he left for school he didn’t see him.  Wouldn’t see much of him over the next couple of days he guessed not with an ongoing murder investigation on his books.

 

Which left the time he was out last night with Scott looking for the other half of a body that a couple of joggers had found out on the preserve.  Stiles now knew that the bottom half was found first and his Dad told him tonight, when he dropped in to eat, shower and change his clothes, that they’d found the other half that very afternoon after an anonymous tip off. 

 

He can remember vividly being out in the forest with Scott right up until the moment they were separated.. alright he was busted, and his father walked him back to his car giving him a lecture the whole way on the issue of boundaries and personal privacy and the responsibilities he expects his now 16 year old son to adopt.. yada yada.. and so on and so forth.

 

Stiles didn’t feel uncomfortable in his car, not in the slightest.  But his bedroom.. his sanctuary.  He didn’t notice until the light had faded and darkness was pressing against the pane of glass trying to find its way inside, that every time he looks at the window he can feel his skin start to crawl. 

 

Nausea makes bile rise to his mouth and he forces himself to swallow it back down grimacing at the bitter aftertaste, because he can’t leave there is some compulsion.. some need to stand his ground.. to protect what is his and it maybe only a room.  His bedroom.. but it’s his and something’s trespassed.. something’s violated and it’s not gonna happen again.  Not without Stiles’ baseball bat being shoved so far up its ass that it’ll be picking wooden splinters out of it’s teeth.

 

The creaking noise of those nails he’d pounded deep into the frame being popped out of the wood sounds incredibly loud, it's by brute force someone on the other side of the window lifts it up and it has Stiles momentarily confused.  Is this a nightmare?  Did he fall asleep somehow?  As the glass slowly slides upwards and cool air blows in and hits him in the face he realises it’s all too real.

 

Sheer terror has his fingers feeling like big frozen stumps that just happen to be attached to his hands and they just slide off the smooth screen of his phone that he’s set for his Dad’s number just in case and he’s clumsily pushed the phone clear off the bed.  Great.  Cliché #3 from any horror movie, drop the keys or the mobile phone in the dark and it’s a given.. you’re dead meat.

 

His heart’s about to burst when he sees a dark shape slide through the window, when he sees a second one right behind it even larger he’s downright prepared to scream bloody murder and wake up the whole frigging neighbourhood because their eyes are glowing red and.. and there’s growling.  Oh shit..

 

Oh my God, demons are real.. wait till he tells Scott.. if he lives.  ‘Supernatural’ knew what it was talking about when it came up with red-eyed demons, he knew that some of the stuff on that show was true damn it.  He draws in a deep breath ready to scream when he hears..

 

“Stiles..”  It’s a woman and for some reason that makes him relax slightly, his breath escaping in one long sigh, because whatever he expected to come through his window tonight it wasn’t that.  It wasn’t her. 

 

With a fumbling hand he reaches out and switches the lamp on as he kneels on his bed, bat in hand ready to ‘hey batter batter batter SWING batter’ their fucking heads off if they come near him.

 

“Holy crap.”  Stiles gasps as he sees two of the most beautiful people he’s ever seen in his life and they’re standing in his bedroom and one of them is Leather Jacket Dude from the woods, paired with the equally lovely Leather Jacket Dudette.   His is the black one he’d been wearing earlier and hers is a short waisted brown one.  Hell.. he has a pair of matching leather bookends.

 

The woman snickers as if she’s found something amusing.

 

So if he’s Derek therefore she must be, Laura Hale.  They have to be siblings they’re just too alike, especially with those eyebrows. 

 

Or maybe that’s a werewolf trait, ‘eyebrows of doom’ to accompany the scary-ass red glowing eyes.  He doesn’t have to be a genius to figure out that they’re wolves, even if it wasn’t for all the shit going down in Beacon Hills over the past 24 hours he figures that the primitive part of his brain would always recognise these two for what they are. 

 

Predators.

 

Laura slaps her hand to her eyebrows, fingers feeling for shape and thickness and frowns.

 

Derek’s got his head tilted to one side and he’s.. yep he’s sniffing the air like a dog.  Oh wait even better he’s obviously the one who’s been growling like one too.  He strides around the room scenting everywhere, nostrils flaring, and his growls are getting louder and his eyes are bright red.. and there’s a circle of gold around the red and it’s glowing brightly as their eyes meet before Stiles quickly looks away.  The gold glow is strangely comforting.

 

 _‘What did I tell you?.. something’s happened..’_ The voice he’d heard earlier today in his head is back and Stiles feels his stomach pitch wildly at the fury he can hear in it.  _‘Someone’s been here.. I can scent them.. another wolf..’_

 

Derek‘s prowling back and forth across his bedroom floor and Stiles can’t resist meeting his eyes again.. the look he’s giving Stiles makes him swallow hard.  Derek’s strong jaw is clenched and his hands open and close into tight fists over and over, but the expression in his eyes.. beyond the red and gold it’s downright.. hungry.

 

_‘God when I think what could’ve happened.. Laura..I.. if it had I don’t think I would’ve survived..’_

 

 _‘Enough of that.. he’s here and he’s alive that’s the main thing.. Okay?’_ Derek slowly nods his head.  _‘Alright.. lets think this through.. Who and more importantly how?  And can it be undone?’_   This is Laura’s voice and it’s in his fucking head, hers sounds way more distorted and crackly than Derek’s but he can still make it out.  Can still unbelievably hear them.. but not with his ears and it makes his stomach pitch wildly at the intimacy of it all.

 

_‘God I hope so.. It has to be the rogue.. it’s too much of a coincidence.. the scent though.. he’s masking it..’_

_‘Wolfsbane??’_

_‘More than likely.. it’s not enough it can kill us..that it can numb and distort our senses too.. fuck .. he’s a clever bastard.. but I’m getting something else too..’_   Derek stands still, closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath through his nose, does it again before he looks up eyes opening and without hesitation finds Stiles’.   

 

Stiles shifts nervously under his intense stare.  Derek’s silently asking something of him, eyes unwavering and burning.

 

 _‘Roses.. not fresh.. but it’s the faintest of traces..’_   Laura inhales deeply too and after a moment she nods at Derek obviously agreeing with him.

 

“Can you stop doing that?.. Please..”  Stiles asks desperately this is getting way too freaky, that they’re having a conversation in his head is just.. ‘nucking futs’.  He grips the bat tighter, taking comfort in the polished grain of the wood under his hands.  This is real, feeling the wood absorbing the warmth of his hot sweat slick grasp, not the man who stands in front of him with his hungry eyes and unspoken demands, making Stiles feel.. things. 

 

‘Things’ like an ache in the pit of his stomach, like the way his skin twitches needing to be touched.. ‘things’ that he’s never felt before and particularly not for a guy.  He wasn’t discriminatory, his Mom had raised him with the idea that ‘love is love’ with whomever you found it, and Stiles could acknowledge beauty whether male or female but this.. this feeling was more and he didn’t know what to do with it.

 

“How about you just get the fuck out of my head.. in fact get the fuck out of my house too while you’re at it.”  Stiles can feel himself getting amped up, the adrenalin’s rushing throughout his system.  Fight or flight.  His primitive brain is screaming at him to do something.  Anything, no matter how wild and reckless.  He grips the bat tighter prepared to start swinging.. 

 

Derek’s suddenly right in his face, nostrils flaring and breathing so harshly that Stiles can feel puffs of hot air against his mouth and he inhales deeply.   Coffee and green apples.  Bitter and tart.

 

Derek’s big hand holds the bat to one side so easily that Stiles feels like when he was a little kid messing around with his Dad, he’d hold Stiles off with one hand on top of his head while he struggled and swung his fists to no avail.  Getting more and more pissed off.  Never quite able to reach.

 

“Don’t start something that I’ll finish Stiles..”  The heated growl that is his voice has Stiles recoiling in shock.  Shock because he can feel something underlying the fear that is gripping him.. there’s a knowing.. a recognition at that look.. at that tone Derek’s using.  It’s a dark promise full of heat and tension.  Good old instinct tells him he’s seen and felt it’s effect before and yet he can’t remember and that terrifies him. 

 

Blood is rushing through his veins from a pounding heart.  So fast he feels dizzy.  Isn’t he too young to have a heart attack?

 

 _‘Stop it.. Derek.. look at him.. you’re scaring him..’_   Laura moves closer to her brother watching him warily like even she can’t be sure of exactly what he’s going to do.

Derek’s eyes trace his features with an intense burning gaze, it doesn’t escape Stiles’ notice that they frequently flick between his eyes and down to his mouth and back again more than any other feature. 

 

Stiles is breathing so hard that his lips are parted and he quickly swipes his tongue over his dry upper lip.  Terror does that to you he tells himself, swallowing hard not prepared to look any deeper inside himself right now.  It’s scary and unknown in there.

 

A soft seductive rumble vibrates out of Derek as he reaches out for him then with his hand, but it’s not so much a hand anymore but a fucking claw and his face.. His features are changing right before Stiles’ eyes, brow getting heavier, nose flatter, sideburns growing, the tips of his ears are pointed and his teeth.. holy shit.. not human teeth anymore.  He’s got fangs.. legit fangs that poke into his lower lip and shit..shit..shit.. he’s gonna rip out his fucking throat and..

 

Laura grabs hold of Derek’s arm stopping him from touching Stiles and he turns on her and roars..  it’s long and loud, makes his ears ring so painfully he has to put his hands over them, and Stiles can hear Derek in his head and it’s.. it’s so FUBAR he can’t even breathe.

 

 _‘HE’S MINE.. MINE..’_   There’s a possessive tone to Derek’s thoughts and Stiles can’t seem to swallow, his tongue cleaves to the roof of his mouth, he’s gone so dry.

What the hell???  Who’s his??  Does he even really want to know?

 

 _‘LOOK.  AT.  HIM…   LISTEN.  TO.  HIM…  Hear his heart beating.. it’s nearly coming out of his chest.. You’re scaring him even more than he needs to be.. Derek, he won’t be yours if you can’t keep yourself under control..’_   Laura is calm in the face of her brother’s rage, how he has no idea because he’s terrified, Derek looks wild and uncontrolled.

 

Stiles has shuffled as far back on his bed as he possibly can, huddling against the headboard. The baseball bat Derek let go of so carelessly as though it was no serious threat to him, he holds in front of him and he has a distant memory of watching “The Shining” and laughing his head off at the way Jack Nicholson’s wife in it swings her bat at him so pathetically as he’s stalking her. 

 

He’s not laughing now.

 

“Did.. did one of you fuckers bite Scott?”


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laura and Derek struggle to find the answer to Stiles' memory loss. Derek loses control at the thought of his claim being challenged. Will the bonds of pack between them be re-forged stronger than ever?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said it was a long one and needed to be broken up.
> 
> Please enjoy.
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed - the road less travelled deux

“Did.. did one of you fuckers bite Scott?”  He can hear how shaky his voice is as he asks the question.  The Hale siblings look at each other for a long moment some sort of silent communication between them, either that or he’s just not hearing them in his head any more.  Thank Christ. 

 

“Did you?”  He demands, thinking about what Scott went through the previous night and how scared he must’ve been, it helps him push away his own fear and gather his anger and he can hear that he’s sounding more firm, more determined and in control.

 

“Stiles.. ”  Derek begins, his voice a harsh rasp that could make his ear drums bleed it’s so rough, then stops when he gets an elbow to the ribs from his sister. 

 

_‘Scott’s the friend right?  Didn’t you see him with Stiles today?.. you should’ve been able to tell if he was bitten and turning..’_

_‘Yes alright.. I was a bit distracted.. okay.. with my ma.. with Stiles’ not remembering..’_   The look he gives his sister is fierce, his fangs flash white as he snarls.

_‘I was also trying to find my sister who’d disappeared on me.. in the very woods we’d been attacked in the previous night..’_   To say that Derek sounds a bit snippy with his sister is very much an understatement, maybe it’s that time of the month for him in relation to the moon.

_‘Well excuse me for finding a body.. half a body.. at least I was searching..’_   The tone of her thoughts becomes hard and uncompromising.  _‘Distractions can get you killed little bro.. and I.. I couldn’t.. not without you..’_

Laura doesn’t continue just keeps looking at Derek and the silent communication between them feels as loud as thunder.  The annoyance they felt with each other seems to evaporate before Stiles’ very eyes.

Derek clears his throat and starts again, his voice pitched lower, trying to be soothing but it just makes Stiles’ stomach flutter all the harder. 

 

“No.. Stiles.  It wasn’t us.”  Derek looks at him and Stiles for whatever reason can read the expression on his face as if he’s done it a million times before and it’s truthful. 

 

“We think there’s a rogue wolf marking its territory here on our Pack lands.  It attacked us last night too, it was just lucky that we were together because it took the two of us to fight it off.  I’ve never seen such rage, such fury..”  He pauses reflecting and Stiles can tell it was a close run thing because of the expression on his face as he looks at his sister. 

 

There’s fear underneath the outwardly ferocious face of a supposed monster, a wolfman like in the movies, but human love looks out of those eyes at her and Stiles can see that if anything had happened to his sister, Derek would be.. lost.

 

Laura places her hand on his arm and it’s not to restrain this time, it’s in comfort as she continues for him.  “It’s either moonstruck or insane in both its lives, wolf and human as well.  The body that we found.. he was an Alpha, but we don’t know anything about him, who he is or where he came from.  We’ve not heard of any Pack Alpha’s who’ve gone missing.  So the victim’s a mystery to us too.”

 

“Moonstruck?”  Stiles queries.  It sounds so benign.

 

“It’s when a wolf gives into its primal nature entirely.. hunting.. feeding.. breeding.. those are its sole concerns.   It becomes very territorial and does **_not_** hesitate to kill if there is a perceived threat. There is nothing human left in it at all.  They become attuned to all the cycles of the moon and very rarely can be brought out of its influence.” 

 

Stiles shudders. 

 

“Exactly.. what we’re worried about is if he’s strong enough to kill and claim an Alpha’s powers **_and_** mentally disturbed to boot..  Stiles, it means that Scott’s been bitten by a very volatile Alpha, one who is trying to claim territory and build a pack.”  She puts her hand on his shoulder and he can feel her strength, emotionally and physically, worry all over her beautiful face.  “He’ll call to Scott.. draw him to himself.. and he could get seriously hurt or killed if he doesn’t do what his Alpha commands.”

 

“Oh my God.. oh my God.. Not Scott.. he.. his Mom she’d.. and I wouldn’t..”  Stiles can feel a burning sting at the back of his eyes, but he inhales deeply and sucks it up.  Not on his watch.  There’s no way.

 

“What can we do?  What can I do?”  Stiles asks.

 

“Stiles, we can help Scott, but we need you to try and remember so we can find the Alpha.  We need to find out how much you do and don’t remember.  Do you **_know_** who I am?”  Derek asks solemnly.  “Who this is?”  he points at his sister with a clawed fingertip.

 

Stiles rolls his eyes. 

 

“Yes I know who you are.  Derek and Laura Hale.”  The darkness slips away from Derek’s eyes and the wolf features he’s been wearing ripple away with an ease that’s scary and awesome all at the same time.  There’s something almost magical in the way human Derek smiles at him then, it’s like a punch to the gut because it’s so breathtaking and his eyes lighten with a radiance that Stiles realises is.. solely for him.

 

Derek takes a step towards the bed and Stiles feels compelled to add.  “I remember ‘coz my Dad worked on the case, the fire.. back then.. it was when my Mom was in hospital.”

 

Derek freezes and the smile slides right off his face and his eyes that had started to glow with this weird golden light become dark and shadowed again.  Stiles almost wants to apologise because he knows he caused this haunted anguished look to appear.

 

 _‘Stiles.. I..’_ Derek turns away, moves to his desk and idly picks up and puts down a few things, his back to them both.. but is that.. he’s not 100% sure but it looks like Derek’s hands are shaking.  Stiles would normally be jumping up and down with people touching his stuff but.. for some reason he feels bad for the other man and lets it be.

 

“Stiles honey.. uh sorry.”  Laura corrects herself with a small huff, she obviously realises that those little signs of intimacy are disturbing to him, because he doesn’t know why they are close.. why she speaks to him so affectionately.. why Derek looks at him.. looks at him that way.  “Stiles, why do you have a baseball bat in bed with you?”

 

He debates what to tell them ‘coz seriously does he really need people looking at him like he’s losing his mind, if he wanted that he would go and look in a mirror because he was quite capable of doing that himself thank you very much.  Then thinks stuff it… and the truth shall set you free or more than likely find you in the latest designer straight jacket, a la Bellevue chic.

 

“I think something came through my bedroom window last night and I.. I think it did something..”  Stiles doesn’t get a chance to finish when Derek’s instantly at his side, there so quickly that Stiles doesn’t even register him as being within reach, until he’s leaning over the bed to hold his upper arms firmly as he rakes an assessing eye over Stiles’ body for what he can only guess is injury.

 

“Not physically.”  Stiles whispers, feeling the large hands ease their warm grip slightly as startling light green eyes look into his.  They are as amazing in colour as the red and gold, maybe more so because Stiles can see the emotion more easily in these.. human ones. 

 

Lost in the green, he can’t drag his eyes away, he uses the bat to gently tap the side of his head.  “I’ve got memory loss.”

 

“That’s good.”  Laura says as she stands beside Derek.  “Not that you’ve got it, but you **_know_** that you’ve lost some memories.”

 

“Now we just have to work out who did this to you and how to get them back.”  She drags a hand through her long dark hair, raking through the long strands over and over as she thinks.  It sits just on her shoulders, but he thinks it would look so much nicer a bit shorter.. one of those bobs would suit her so much…

 

Derek and Laura are just watching him.  He darts a quick look from one to the other.  Yep they are looking at him pretty intently.

 

_‘Derek.. I think the memories are there.. just somehow repressed, if he can remember how my hair was from when I first met him..then what are the chances the others are there too..’_

 

“Do you remember what you were just thinking?”  Derek asks, his voice is rough and hopeful.. and it’s attractive and fuck.. you guys can hear what I’m thinking can’t you?

 

 _‘Nearly every thought sweetheart..’_   The endearment slips out easily as Laura smiles cheekily.  She’s obviously so used to talking to him in that way. 

 

 _‘Just glad you’ve only checked out my hair and not my ass or my boobs.. cause awkward..’_   She flicks a glance at her brother who still has the whole Heathcliff out on the moors brooding thing going on.. damn he has got to shut down his thoughts as Laura bursts out laughing and Derek frowns so hard that Stiles thinks he’s going to pull something.

 

“Okay.  I’ve got a question for you.”  They both stiffen warily. 

 

“I don’t remember either of you apart from the case my Dad worked on, but you obviously know me.  Why do I seem to remember everything else.. my Dad, my Mom.. Scott.. that I like curly fries and hate green beans.. the number for Pi.. but.. not you?” 

 

Stiles slides off the bed pulls slightly at his arms and it seems to him that Derek’s a bit reluctant to let him go, but he does eventually.  His fingertips drag slowly across Stiles arm as he releases him leaving goosebumps in their wake.  It makes him shiver and his heart pump a fraction harder for a moment or two. 

 

He stands there, unmoving.. thinking.  He doesn’t feel threatened by them anymore.. far from it.

 

“Why don’t I know you the way you seem to know me?  Why don’t I remember you?”  Stiles asks hoarsely, because something inside him is screaming at him that he does.. that these people in front of him are important to him.  He looks at Derek.  “Are we.. are we friends?”  He asks tentatively.

 

Derek closes his eyes and tips his head back and Stiles can see his throat working as he swallows hard.  Laura stands to his side and her eyes flash with pain and she averts them to look at the floor.  Derek drops his eyes allowing them to meet the younger man’s and he can see that they are dark from where his pupils have blown wide.

 

“More than that.. we know you because you’re one of us.  You’re pack and someone’s trying to take you away from me.. from us.”  Derek says glancing at Laura as though afraid she may say something else.

 

“Pack.”  Stiles can feel a quiver of excitement surge through him, tempered with fear and it switches his mouth to overdrive.  “So I’m a werewolf too?  Who bit me?  Was it you.. I hope it was you.. and not the rogue..”  He indicates Derek who sucks in a loud sharp breath.  His hands rake through his black hair and Stiles could almost believe they were shaking.

 

“Gotta tell you dude..I don’t feel like one.. Scott’s got all these freaky abilities developing.. is it because he got a bite and I got made into a human pincushion with a handful of claws?  What’s the deal with that?” 

 

“Where?”  Derek grabs his arm back and is hauling him in close and he runs his face up from Stiles chest to his neck and ears breathing in deeply.  Stiles can feel his cheeks flame at the closeness of the other man’s face as he scents him, can feel the heat of his body radiating off him.. it scorches, burning hotter than the sun.

 

“Wait.. wait..”  He looks up into the other man’s face, Derek’s looking down at him and that spark is back in his eyes, the red flame encircled by gold.  Stiles puts his hand on Derek’s chest trying to keep a distance between them, so he can try and think, which is near enough impossible by the sheer strength of the wolf and Derek presses even closer. 

 

Inadvertently he’s placed his palm over the other man’s heart and even though there’s a layer of cotton t-shirt and black leather jacket between.. Stiles can feel the thumping pounding beat of Derek’s racing heart.. the vibration travels through his hand and up his arm.  Is it his imagination or does that vibration move down into his chest and it almost feels like his heart skips a beat so it can match the one beating so wildly beneath his hand.

 

Awe washes over him, Derek’s so alive.. his energy is a natural living pulse tied to the earth and the forest through his wolf.  Stiles can almost smell the rich damp earth and the moss and clovers, the decaying leaves that litter the forest floor surrounding the tall trees.  It’s part of Derek and it’s.. intoxicating and terrifying.

 

As he turns away, with a shaking hand he pulls the back of his shirt collar down to reveal the puncture wounds and hears the sharp hiss from Laura and the most ferocious rumbling growl from Derek that if it was directed at him personally would make him piss his pants in fear.  There is the sudden scent of danger in the air, his skin prickles and the nape of his neck tingles.  The werewolf is extremely.. unhappy.   

 

_‘Memory removal.. it has to be the rogue.. Dear God.. Derek he knows Stiles carries a mark.. he’s overlaid it with this.. trying to get him to forget.. and if he forgets enough the mark will get weaker and weaker until..’_

Derek’s not talking anymore, growling in a constant pissed off tone.

“What mark and what happens if it gets too weak?”  Stiles looks from one to the other.  The concern and fear on both their faces is so obviously not an act and even if he can’t remember them.. he can see and feel how much they care about him.

 

“It will break.”  Laura looks at him with fear in her eyes as she watches both men in front of her.  “A broken mark.. it’s never good.  He must think if he breaks the mark then he can replace it with his own.  He’s smart.. so smart.  If he’d tried to outright bite over the top of Derek’s mark then he’d be injured severely, there’s natural protection in a claim.. but this way.. God he gets you to forget everything you know about werewolves.. about us.. about your.. about Derek and it will break on its own.  Then he steps in and...” 

 

Derek’s changing before his eyes and for some reason he seems bigger, like his chest and shoulders are broader and deeper. He stretches his arms and legs which seem bulkier, layered with thick muscle.

 

“My mark..  mine..”  Derek growls in such a low tone he can barely understand him, it’s dark and dangerous.. makes Stiles shake and all this to-ing and fro-ing between human and werewolf is making Stiles’ dizzy, stomach churning.

 

It’s almost a sixth sense that makes him turn away sharply from the claw-like hand that reaches for his nape.

 

“No.. please.. don’t touch..”  Stiles ducks to one side as Derek reaches for him.  Almost tripping over himself in getting away.  He falls against the bed and Derek grabs his arms and hauls him up, back to chest, and Stiles can feel Derek’s forehead rest on the back of his skull and his hot breath panting against his nape and shivers uncontrollably..  

 

The beginnings of an erection make his cheeks burn as heat blazes through him.  He can’t deny anymore what the older man does to him.. does to his senses, not when he’s pressed so close to him that Stiles can feel a hard ridge against his butt.  It doesn’t feel wrong.. it’s so right that he can’t believe that he was afraid.

 

‘Stiles.. he’s trying to take you away from me.. I can’t.. YOU.  ARE.  MINE.”  His head lifts off where it’s been resting against him.. holy fuck.. Derek’s going to bite him.. actually sink his teeth..er fangs into his flesh and mother-fucking bite him..

 

Laura pushes against Derek’s side so unexpectedly he stumbles slightly to one side and she grabs Stiles arm pulling him away and tucking him behind her.

 

“Stay behind me Stiles..”  She murmurs back to him not taking her eyes off her huge werewolfy brother.

 

 _‘What are you doing?.. Laura?”_  The hurt and betrayal in his thoughts is agonizing.  _‘Give him back.. not gonna hurt him.. never hurt him.. just gonna bite him again..’_

 

Stiles feels like he’s just received the biggest kick to the ‘nads since 3rd grade when Stephanie Chang decided that she didn’t like his excessively complimentary comment about her drawing of a pig.  Unfortunately, it was actually a pony.  He learnt his lesson and never critiqued art again.   The way Derek and Laura are talking about him, about claiming.. biting and marks it makes his stomach twist and pitch.. in a good way and his groin feels heavy and aching, like a giant bruise.

_‘Derek for God’s sake think it through.. he knows what your first instinct would be..to reclaim him..’_

_‘Need to give him my mark.. NOW LET HIM GO..’_ Derek’s roaring and Stiles can feel prickling goosebumps wash over his flesh and he holds his hands tight to his ears.  He’s moving forward and tries to reach around Laura who easily pushes him away, her own face has wolfed out although her features are slightly more refined than Derek’s.

 

 _‘Stiles baby.. come to me.. need to claim you again.. need to mark you again.. you’re mine.. mine..’_   Derek’s pleas ring in his head and Stiles struggles to swallow as waves of heat wash over him.. all he can hear is ‘again’.. Dear God, have he and Derek done this before.. he would give everything to remember that moment.

 

The wolves growl and Laura thumps both hands, palms flat, against Derek’s chest hard, Stiles can hear Derek’s ribs creak and bow as it pushes him back several feet.

 

_‘Get your fucking head out of your ass.. boo hoo my claiming mark.. someone’s trying to take him.. poor me.. Get over it.. this isn’t about you.. fucking ego maniac.. this is happening to Stiles.. Someone wants Stiles and you need to be thinking with the head that I can see on your shoulders and not the other one..’_

 

“Get out of my way Laura.”  Derek’s face is flushed and his glowing eyes are wild, chest heaving as he semi-crouches ready to spring.

 

 _‘Stiles.. run..’_   Laura darts out ready to body block Derek from getting hold of Stiles and Derek grabs hold of her arm and swings powerfully.. yet somehow still controlled and Laura’s flying through the air to land on the mattress, bouncing across it like a flat stone being skipped across the surface of a lake. 

 

With his momentum Derek whips around and grabs Stiles around the waist as he tries to run past and hauls him into the shelter of his muscular body.  Draping himself against the younger man, he rests his head against the back of Stiles’ and his breathing is fast and shallow as Stiles struggles to free himself.

 

 _‘Please don’t.. need to Stiles.. need you.. love you my mate..’_   Stiles freezes and his fingers pluck restlessly at the arms that surround him so tightly.  Did he hear right?  Need and love.. and mates.  He starts to tremble uncontrollably, his fingers slide into the tight clasp of Derek’s hand and the wolf groans loudly at the voluntary seeking out and finding of touch between them.

 

“No Derek.. stop..”  Laura screams out as she pitches forwards scrambling across the bed.

 

 _‘Please remember me.. remember us..’_   Derek’s thoughts are a soft plea in his head and when he says us, Stiles doesn’t mistake it for anything else, knows that he’s talking about them.  Derek and Stiles.  Together.

 

Then it’s too late, Derek’s fangs prick into the back of his neck, matching his bite to the puncture marks and gently presses against them.  His tongue flicks hot and wet against Stiles’ flesh as slowly his fangs plunge in and Stiles spasms as the pleasure and the pain rush through his nervous system sending contradictory messages throughout his body and he’s convulsing.. only this time.. he’s not alone.  He collapses, no strength.. no control to stop his descent.. gravity pulls his body down and it’s this that makes him slide off of Derek’s fangs.. not from any conscious decision for him to be released by either of them.

 

Loose limbed Stiles can feel the carpet beneath his cheek as he looks across and sees Derek writhing and jerking next to him.. he at least has the ability to howl.. Stiles has lost control of his vocal chords and can only whine softly as he moves his hips into a slow grind against the floor that sends shivers up his spine, even as he wishes he could push his fingers deep into his skull and rip and gouge out the pain that has set his brain aflame.  Derek still holds his hand and Stiles focuses on that.. Derek is his anchor to a reality that is agony but if he doesn’t hang on he’ll disappear, get swallowed by the darkness.

 

He closes his eyes as he feels a delicate hand on the back of his head and he sighs in relief.  The edge of pain is receding from his consciousness and he can just barely flutter his eyes open and sees Laura looking down at him and he can see where her sleeve is pulled up, dark threading veins leading up her wrist and arm.  She is doing the same to Derek, black pulsing veins on her other hand and wrist, he isn’t fighting her.  In fact, he’s not moving at all now.  Lying so still.  Barely breathing.

 

“Poisoned.. shit.. Derek don’t you do this to me you stubborn little fucker..  I’m not gonna lose you.”  Stiles wonders though as he sees a small grimace cross her face and she tilts her head back and closes her eyes.  She holds in place for another couple of minutes before, pale and shaking she lifts her trembling hands and her head droops, chin nearly touching her chest as she pants desperately.

 

Then she tries again.  A hand on each of them.  Moaning softly, obviously in pain. 

 

“Dear God.. give me the strength.. please..”  The black veins in her arms pulse and throb and Stiles can see them spread and reach up her neck and cheeks towards her eyes.  The colour flickers in her eyes, going from blazing red to cocoa brown to shining gold then deepest black, over and over as she draws deeper and longer.

 

Stiles shifts, his fingertips brushing against something smooth and warm and it’s gradually getting warmer.  Through the squint of his eyes he can see Derek’s wearing a bracelet, one of those friendship ones.. the stone isn’t right though.. it’s a golden amber and it’s pulsing as though alive.. it’s wrong.. a fleeting vision of Derek’s unusual green eyes passes through his mind.  When he strokes across it with a lone fingertip, it’s burning now and a dam of memories crashes open inside his mind.  They’re not his.

 

**_“Can you put this one on me please?”  Derek asks holding out his hand.  He can feel himself trembling inside wonders if Stiles knows what he does to him when the boy picks up the bracelet from where it lays in his open palm.  Just the brush of those long fingers against his hand makes him want to cry out, sweep the boy up in his arms and hold him and love him, keep him forever.  Never let go._ **

****

**_Those beautiful amber eyes that mirror the stone in his bracelet are wide and glowing with emotion, Derek can feel something inside him ease.  There is always the knowledge that Stiles is so young, it torments him constantly sometimes makes him feel like the worst of monsters.  Like Kate.  It’s his greatest fear, that his feelings for Stiles will blind him to the possibility that he’s actually hurting the other boy by being with him._ **

****

**_The way he gently cups his hand with his and guides it to his mouth, it’s so loving and Derek feels cherished in a way he’s never felt before.  Derek sucks in a sharp breath at the delicate brush of Stiles’ beautiful wide mouth against his skin._ **

****

**_He’s burning alive at the hands and mouth of a thirteen year old.. Dear God.. he wants him so bad.  Stiles licks with the tip of his pink tongue and nips his way, worrying at the flesh between even white teeth, from the centre of his palm to Derek’s inner wrist.  Where Stiles moans softly as he sucks hard._ **

****

**_The expression on his face when he lifts his head to look at the mark he’s left on Derek’s flesh is full of dazed satisfaction and it makes Derek want to howl, can feel his wolf wanting to slip the leash of control he has on it.  A burning wild heat washes over him, he’s barely restraining himself from throwing himself onto the other boy.  Has to lock his muscles tight to stop himself from reaching out, he grinds his teeth as he fights the battle inside._ **

****

**_Stiles slowly slides the bracelet over Derek’s broad hand which he rests the back of against his chest so he can tie off the ends, the heat of his body through the cotton t-shirt he wears burns his knuckles.  When Stiles brushes a gentle kiss over the tips of Derek’s fingers there’s a look on his face screaming defiance and it makes Derek want to crush his mouth to his._ **

****

**_“Thank you.. it’s beautiful.  I’ll wear it all the time.”  Stiles says about his bracelet with the green stone, voice low and husky with want.  ‘You’re mine now.’ He says with his soul and the very idea leaves Derek shaking and breathless and hungry for someone to claim him.. to love him.. to need him.  That someone has to be Stiles, can only be Stiles.. there is no one else for Derek._ **

****

**_All he can say in reply is ‘Good’.  To everything._ **

****

Stiles tightens his fingers that are threaded through Derek’s still brushing against the bracelet and he pushes himself up hunched over on his knees.  Reaches up with a shaking hand and grabs onto Laura’s that she has threaded into his hair.  Derek loves him and something inside him swells at the knowledge, it’s deep in the core of him and it just grows and grows, the power thrumming inside him and Stiles can feel it spill over into his connection with Laura.

 

 _‘Take Derek’s other hand..’_   He’s grateful that she doesn’t argue with him.  Just does it.  He closes his eyes, doesn’t even think about the fact that he can feel it when she does.  He’s running on pained instinct now and he can feel threads that link the three of them. 

 

The threads that are from Derek are in some places so thin they are on the verge of snapping.  Stiles feels a momentary panic as he realises that the darkness that he’d thought was about to swallow him whole wasn’t actually surrounding him.  It’s trying to devour Derek and the only thing that’s holding him here is Stiles and Laura and their bonds.  They are anchoring him to life itself.

 

A confidence and surety sweeps through him. Instinct.  These bonds that tie them together just need reinforcement and that feeling, that power, that’s so big and so deep inside him floods through him and out and into the two werewolves he’s holding hands with in a circle.  Stiles forges through the bonds and he vaguely hears Laura cry out as he latches on and draws out the darkness that threatens his pack.  His pack??

 

It’s cleansing and whatever Laura has drawn into herself from them both has been burnt away by the power.  The poison that taints Derek is drawn painfully into Stiles making him moan and he can taste a bitterness in his mouth and he turns his head and spits over and over until it’s gone.  The pain lessening each time.

 

“Wolfsbane.. he must’ve coated his claws in the fucking stuff.. knowing.. God almighty I almost lost you.. you little shit.”  Laura’s voice cracks as she looks at her brother and her hands visibly twitch violently.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek calls out and Stiles feels incredibly strong now and he lifts his head and looks across to Derek.  Both Derek and Laura are watching him with something like awe on their faces and he realises that they’re all glowing.  Golden. 

 

He can feel love and passion pouring into him from Derek, friendship and affection from Laura and the mutual feelings between the brother and sister of enduring familial love tempered with rivalry, competitiveness and pride in and for each other. 

 

He doesn’t know what to make of his own feelings towards them can’t look too deep at emotions he doesn’t remember feeling for them.  He’s been shown a glimpse of Derek’s for him when he touched his bracelet, but he doesn’t recall that exchange happening.  Doesn’t even know where the green-stoned bracelet is.  He looks at his bare wrist where he’s almost rubbed the skin red raw today and now he knows why.  Subconsciously he’s been missing something that he’s evidently been wearing for a long time now.

 

“I feel incredible.”  Laura’s looking at him through her red Alpha eyes and there is energy pulsing between all three of them, it arcs and sparks wildly and he thinks yes.  This feels right even though he may not remember why.

 

“Stiles whatever happens.. if you get your memory back or not you will always belong to us.. to this pack.”

 

Derek leans forward as does Laura and they press their foreheads together, Stiles can only watch at the all too obvious bond between the siblings before he’s suddenly dragged towards them by the hands each one is holding.  Their heads press together and Stiles closes his eyes.  It’s too much, he can feel their warm skin and scent their breath and he wants to be pack so bad, part of their pack forever.

 

 _‘Yes.. forever..’_   The voices in his head are clearer than he’s ever heard before.  The connection stronger between all three of them.  Stiles just basks in their closeness.

 

“Next time listen to your older and wiser sister.. you big jerk..”  It’s said so sternly, but Stiles can feel the affection that Laura puts into the insult.

 

“Yes Laura.” 

 

“Don’t yes Laura me.. you almost died.. again..”  She snipes at him.

 

“Yes Laura.”

 

“And you..”  She focuses her attention on Stiles.  “Thank you for saving him again.. but the next time I tell you to run.. even if it’s from him.. don’t dawdle get the hell out of there.. okay?”

 

“Again?”  Stiles flinches at the idea of the other man being close to death previously and he.. he saved him and he can’t remember anything about it.  Nothing at all.

 

“Stiles we need to talk.”  Derek’s voice is steady even though Stiles can feel through their link that the other man’s heart is racing, but there’s a note in his voice that has Stiles’ opening his eyes to see kaleidoscope green ones caressing his features.

 

“There are things you need to know.. about us.”  And there it is again, that ‘us’ where Stiles knows that he’s only talking about the two of them and he can feel butterflies cartwheeling through his belly.

 

Laura nods and smiles in approval.

 

“Then we need to speak to Scott and probably your Dad and his Mom all together.  Is there anyone else you would consider part of your pack?”  She asks.

 

“My pack..”  He smiles at the thought.  His Dad maybe human but he’s a natural born Alpha, no two ways about it.  It will be interesting to see how they interact together.  “No.. no one else.”

 

“We start as we mean to go on.  From now on there are no secrets in the Hale Pack.  That’s a lesson we’ve learned the hard way and if that means revealing ourselves and what we are.. then so be it.”  Laura looks from one to the other.

 

“Yes Laura.”  Stiles and Derek say in unison, their mouths twitching uncontrollably as they try to stifle their smiles.  Laura sighs loudly.

 

“You guys are such jerks you know, you deserve each other.”

 

“Yes we do.”  Derek says and Stiles doesn’t know if he’s going to get his memory back of the Hale’s any time soon or if ever, but he’s not going to let it stop him from forming some new ones starting right now.

 

He smiles shakily at Derek and can’t breathe when the hottest bad boy he’s ever seen in his life returns his smile with a dazzling one of his own.

 

“Blech… bad boy.. Can you not make goo-goo eyes at each other while I’m right here so close to you?”  Stiles can tell she’s not serious as her cocoa brown eyes lighten and her mouth stretches into a wide smile.

 

The Hale Pack huddles together and they are smiling like fools at one another.

 

“Jerks.”  Laura can’t help having the last word and they let her savour it.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their pack bonding, Laura and Derek try to tell him more about werewolves and all the instances that have been wiped from his memory that involve Derek starting from their first meeting. Poor Stiles is simply a mass of confusion now that the high of becoming pack has lessened and he doubts. Did Derek mean what he said about love and mates? Why would anyone like him be interested in his scrawny 16 year old ass?
> 
> Meet the parents turns out a lot differently than what any of them had expected. Particularly for Stiles, there's a very strong chance that his life will never be the same again and not in a good way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who left messages wondering when the next chapter in this fic was going to be posted - here it finally is. Basically, I took a break from this one over the Xmas holiday period because I've been working on it so consistently that I needed to separate myself from it a bit mentally (or suffer the consequences) - which did result in some other fics being written during that time, so yay..
> 
> During the course of writing this part I've had to use the Sheriff's first name most commonly used in fanon - John - usually I try and steer clear and can be quite neutral using 'Dad' or 'Sheriff' but for this part that would not have worked at all.
> 
> So my angsty muse said (actually she demanded - swear words were exchanged) that this chapter needed angst and the more the better and I stood up to her, face to face, and said - 'okay'
> 
> Unbeta'ed - as per usual

Stiles can only shake his aching head wearily.  They’ve been at this for an hour and a half now and it feels like 89 minutes way too long.

 

“So.. basically you’re telling me we’ve known each other for about six years now and the last time you saw me was three months ago on my birthday.”  There’s a shooting pain spiking straight through the middle of Stiles’ right eye and into what feels like his very brain when Derek nods his head vigorously.. yes yes..

 

“I’m sorry Der..”  Stiles snaps his mouth shut.  He can’t quite bring himself to say Derek’s name just yet.  It feels too intimate for someone he barely knows… even though he’s aware that they’ve been something.. more to each other.  He's still not quite sure what that 'more' is exactly.

 

Since they’d connected as pack a couple of hours ago and the euphoria of surviving has dimmed, Stiles discovers he’s able to close off his connection to the two Alphas at will.  He’s not sure if it’s because of that freaky ass glowy stuff he was able to do, that **_he_** was the one who’d linked to them when he’d healed them, but he’s finally got control on what he hears and what he feels from them and that’s.. kind of a relief in one way and very.. disturbingly lonely in another. 

 

He’d closed himself off because if he feels Derek’s pain every time the other man looks at him for another minute more, he’s not gonna be responsible for his actions because he wants to kill whatever or whoever is hurting the other man, the only problem is that.. it’s him, he’s the one hurting the other man so badly and he doesn’t even fucking remember why. 

 

When he’d done it, they’d been sitting at the table.. Stiles and his pack mates and doesn’t that sound just too freaky for words.   He’d given no warning because he’d had none himself that this was what was going to happen.. was just listening to Laura talk about their family and how a pack works, his mind stretching and searching through their links and bond until he’d found what he can only describe as a metaphysical on/off switch.

 

The moment he’d set it to off, Derek had whined.. actually whined like he was physically in pain and Laura had hissed fiercely.   For all of her snark and outwardly cocky Alpha aggression he’d felt her love and concern for her brother, even for himself and that’s so frickin’ weird.. that someone he doesn’t know can feel so much for him.  Derek just looked grief-stricken and he can feel something deep inside him shift and crack in response.

 

He’s starting to care for these two all too easily in such a short space of time and he just can’t reconcile it all with the memory he has now and the stories.. no not stories he doesn’t doubt that they’re telling the truth.. the retelling of events that have transpired over the past 6 years, of himself and the Hales.  

  


His head is one aching mass of confusion.

 

It all leaves him reeling.. breathlessly spinning apart into fragments of who he thought he was.  If he’s to believe Derek and Laura, the Stiles he is right at this moment is only just over 24 hours old and prior to that he was a different Stiles with different memories.  His life is too, too strange.

 

Then there’s also the fact that he’s.. he’s attracted to another man.. because even though he doesn’t remember, it feels right somehow.  Not gay or bi or whatever.. it’s not so general.  He tries to think about other men.. like movie stars and even some of the other kids at school.. good looking ones like Danny.. even douchebag Jackson he acknowledges fits in that category.. he can see that they’re handsome but he doesn’t feel attraction.. doesn’t feel a tingle in his groin when he pictures them.  Not like when he looks at the man sitting across the table from him. 

 

Stiles can’t deny that Derek is the most beautiful person he’s ever seen in his life and he struggles to not just stare at him endlessly.  Has to make a conscious effort to draw his eyes away and look at the table or over his broad shoulder when he can feel himself linger too long on that face.. dear God that face. 

 

His chin and jawline are chiselled, covered with dark stubble that would rasp against him if Stiles brushed against it, would leave a delicious burn on his softer skin.  Would mark him, an external one to match the one he’s starting to believe he carries inside as well.  The high cheekbones and straight nose give Derek such a masculine, predatory appearance that it makes Stiles shiver in desire for things he didn’t even know he wanted.

 

Black hair that looks so silky it makes his fingertips tingle wanting to run them through the strands to feel if it is.  His dark eyelashes are long and fan out against his skin whenever he closes his eyes.. those eyes that Stiles is yet to decide what colour they are.  Possibly green but there’s so many others swirling within the iris that he can’t be sure, just knows that they draw him in until he feels like he’s drowning in them.

 

Derek’s been talking about how they first met, in hospital where he’d been visiting his Mom and Derek was a patient and Stiles saved him from being trapped in a coma.. seriously that was just.. wow.  That surely tops any 'first meeting' story he's ever heard in his life.

  


The meetings they’ve had since then usually on his birthday.. he gets the feeling that there’s more to it than what he’s actually being told because it feels like the other man’s glossing over a lot of detail.. he wonders what type of relationship do they have and he can’t seem to bring himself to ask straight out.. because what if the answer is are you fucking crazy, what relationship?

 

It feels like it was a dream that Derek had called him mate and said that he loved him.  He’s not said anything like it since and Stiles wonders if it was stress and imagination on his part.. does he even want the other man to say such things to him?   Does he want to say them back in return?  No.. yes.. no.. yes.. no.. yes.. 

 

Stiles feels a wave of nausea ripple through him, it can’t be for real.. how can someone like Derek, a grown man who looks like a frickin’ Greek God ever be interested in a skinny 16 year old kid?   It has to have been his imagination.  Doesn’t it?  Then why does Derek sometimes look at him in a way that makes him tremble?

 

“I’m sorry.. I don’t remember.. none of it.”  There’s a look in Derek’s eyes that he tries to hide everytime Stiles says he doesn’t remember.  It’s the bitterest of disappointments.. of hope shattered and Stiles doesn’t want to hurt anyone even if it’s someone he’s just met.. someone who ironically has known him since he was ten years old.  “But, I’m sure it’s all true.”

 

Derek’s lips stretch and at first Stiles thinks he’s grimacing and then he realises it’s the other man trying to smile at him as if he’s not broken something deep inside. 

 

Without thinking, Stiles reaches over across the dining table and puts his hand on top of the other man’s and runs his fingers across the back of Derek’s knuckles trying to comfort him.  The low growl he hears and the tremor he feels run through the hand under his touch has him lifting his wide eyes to meet Derek’s suddenly heavy-lidded ones, his expression looks.. hungry. 

 

Which is when he realises what the hell he’s doing and yanks his hand back, Derek's skin suddenly scalding his fingertips.

 

Face burning, Stiles gathers up the empty coffee mugs that sit on the table between them including Laura’s, she left them a little while ago to sit in the lounge room with the television on to ostensibly give them some privacy.. that she’s listening to every word he has no doubt, he doesn’t need any link to tell him that.  He walks across to the kitchen sink to rinse them, not looking anywhere even remotely in Derek’s direction. 

 

The cool water splashes over his hands and Stiles lifts one to press against his flaming cheeks, can feel droplets trickle over his chin and down his neck beneath the collar of his button up shirt and slide down his chest.  Wouldn’t be surprised if he heard them sizzle and evaporate when they touch his skin.. he’s burning up. 

 

Turns to call over his shoulder “Do you want another coffeeeeek..”

 

..and drops the mug he’s holding into the sink..  Derek’s standing right behind him and he never even heard him move.

 

“Seriously Der.. dude…  don’t sneak up on people like that.. particularly people named Stiles ‘coz I’m telling you.. I make no guarantees as to what type of clean up duty maybe required after.”

 

His heart racing at the hot glare Derek’s giving him, Stiles quickly looks down into the sink and sees that the mug’s broken, the handle snapped off.  Coughs, uncomfortably aware of the wolf behind him, before turning around.

 

“So.. reflexes not as good as a vampire’s?”  He mocks, flicking his hand towards the broken mug with what he hopes is a couldn’t-care-less smirk, but feels more like deer-in-the-headlights-quivering bottom lip.  Derek looks blankly at him and he can feel his mouth open and close, starting to babble, helplessly out of control.

 

“You know, if you were a sparkly vampire and I was a love-sick teenage girl, you would’ve caught that to impress me.”

 

Derek leans forward, so very, very close.  His arms reach out on either side of Stiles’ hips and bracket him in against the kitchen bench.   Those unusual coloured eyes watch him so intently he can’t quite breathe.

 

“I wasn’t paying attention to your hands..”  Derek’s eyes flick down to look as Stiles moistens suddenly very dry lips, before they lift back up to look into his eyes again.  Stiles sucks in a shaky breath, Derek’s eyes have flashed to red.  Holy shit. 

 

“I don’t sparkle.. you’re not a teenage girl and you’re already impressed.. I can scent it on you.”  Derek’s nostrils flare as he draws in a deep breath and his voice is so low that Stiles can feel something way down deep in his belly vibrate to it and it’s.. it’s not an unpleasant sensation.  He’s leaning in so close now that Stiles can feel his warm moist breath against his lips.

 

“Uhmm.. personal space dude.. picture a bubble around me right.. and one around you.. and don’t be a space invader.”  Stiles grips the benchtop behind him.. not sure if it’s so he can lean back and away which does tend to push his groin outwards like an invitation or to stop himself from reaching out with his hands and run them all over the other man’s solid chest.. that massive chest right in front of him that’s heaving before his very eyes like Derek’s been running.. hard. 

 

Talk about caught between a rock and a hard place.

 

“Don’t call me dude.. my name’s Derek.. say it.. I need to hear you say my name.”  He’s so close now that their lips are only a breath away from touching and Stiles can feel heat wash over him, sweat breaking out on his skin from head to toe.  Can’t help sucking in his lower lip, biting on the flesh before he says on an aching breathy sigh..

 

“Derek.” 

 

The wolf closes his eyes and.. is that a little moan.  Fuck.. that is seriously hot, Derek’s moaning just from him saying his name… it’s unbelievably good.. and arousing.  What the.. he’s so confused at the moment torn between what he remembers or doesn’t remember and how he feels right at this very moment.

 

“I’ll have another coffee, thanks Stiles.”  Derek stiffens and Stiles breathes a sigh of relief when the wolf rolls his eyes and they shift mid-roll from Alpha red to.. for fuck’s sake..  what **_is_** that colour??`

 

Derek swings around to glare at his sister.  Laura is leaning against the island bench in the middle of the kitchen watching them both with a mischievous glint in her eyes.   Her cocoa brown eyes flicker between the two of them and how close they are standing together.

 

“Derek you need to man the fuck up.. because honestly that was pathetic.. what did I give you guys some privacy for.. not so you can give him some half-ass explanations that leave him feeling more confused than ever that’s for sure.”   She’s smirking but there’s something underneath it that tells Stiles she’s all too serious as well.

 

“Laura.”  Derek snarls and he’s wolfed out and Stiles can feel his eyes getting bigger.  This never gets old, seeing how they morph right before his very eyes from human to part wolf in an instant.   His eyes glow red, claws extend and his fangs drop and press into his lower lip.  He could watch it over and over.  “Leave it alone.. he doesn’t remember and I don’t want him to feel.. pressured or obligated in any way.”

 

“Derek he needs to know that you’re his mate and that you love him..”  She says the last gently and looks at Stiles with almost a plea in her eyes for understanding, not for herself but for her brother.  “It doesn’t matter that he can’t remember right now how that came about or how he felt in return.. he needs to know that you do now, no matter what.”

 

Stiles can only look at them both dazedly.  His heart feels like it’s going to jump out of his chest it’s beating so hard, the pressure of his blood circulating throughout his body concentrates in his head until it feels like it’s going to burst.

 

“You love me?”  His voice squeaks.. smooth Stilinski smooth.  The wolfed out man huffs out a deep breath before nodding.. yes.

 

“Did.. do I love you back?”  Stiles asks hesitantly and Derek lifts one trembling clawed hand and strokes his cheek gently.

 

“Yes.”  Stiles quivers at the truth he hears in Derek’s voice and he thinks ‘yes yes how could I not..’  They can only stare at each other and Stiles feels that rightness again.. that certainty that this is how things are and should always be.

 

“That’s not what I came in for anyway.. Stiles your Dad’s home he’s parked in the driveway and he’s talking on his radio.”  Laura says and Stiles can feel his already accelerated heartbeat jump into overdrive, then he feels a weight on his shoulder and realises that Derek’s put his hand there and he’s back to human and looking at him in that way that makes him feel warm all over.. and he smiles tentatively because whatever happens he’ll have his pack and his..  mate. 

 

Dad’s home.  God.. he feels sick.

 

“Maybe you better make him a coffee too.. or have something stronger ready..”  Laura pushes up from the bench she’s been leaning on.

 

“No..”  Both Derek and Stiles say instantly and Stiles can feel his eyes go wide and round as he realises that Derek knows about his Dad’s.. weakness.  It’s there in his eyes and Stiles can’t explain how it makes him feel that he doesn’t have to carry this knowledge on his own anymore.  Laura flicks a look from Stiles to Derek and back again, but thankfully doesn’t say anything.

 

“Stiles for this pack meeting..”  Laura sighs softly.  “Can you drop your guard.. let us back in.  I think we need to feel that bond between us.  Okay?”

 

Stiles can feel his stomach pitch wildly and it’s weird knowing that if he had his barriers down.. Derek and Laura would’ve felt that.   She’s right though.. they have to go into this united.  He nods his head and Stiles closes his eyes and releases the tension that’s been humming in his brain, flicks that switch again and he can feel.. he can feel them. 

 

Laura and Derek both start to keen softly in relief and he can feel the pain that they’d been experiencing cut off from him and guilt ripples through him.. he never meant for them to actually hurt because **_he_** couldn’t cope with all the emotions their pack bond allows him to feel.  Ones that threaten to swallow him whole.

 

_‘Don’t..’_ Derek dips his head towards him so they can see each other’s face clearly.  _‘Even if you had all your memories this would still be difficult for you.. for any human coming into the pack.. sharing yourself so openly with other pack members.. as they share themselves with you too.. we can help you.. so you can control how much you give and receive and still be connected.. okay?’_

Stiles can feel relief wash over him.. he needs this connection, can feel it in his bones how much.. he just needs to not drown in it.. lose himself in it.  Knows that if he lets it, that could all too easily happen and that’s not him.. he’s done his own thing.. been independent for far too long now with his Mom gone and his Dad caught up on the job.  While he needs the pack.. so very very much.. he needs to be himself as well, keep some part of him private and that’s what Derek’s offering and he’s so grateful.

 

_‘Thank you..’_   He can feel the warmth of love and approval flood through their bonds and it makes him smile.

 

 

 

“Okay Stiles.. what is so God damn important that I had to leave the station mid-shift and come home?  And why is there a Camaro parked in the driveway listed as Laura Hale’s?”  Irritation thick in his tone Stiles’ Dad stands, with hands on hips, in the lounge room where Stiles has been waiting for him and he swallows hard, wiping his palms nervously down his thighs. 

 

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten Laura Hale and her psycho brother.. that little stunt he pulled in the hospital with you.. stuck in the elevator.. my ass..”

 

“Uhmm..”  What could he say to that really?  Gosh Dad.. I don’t remember it at all.. but my werewolfy boyfriend here.. he can take a trip down memory lane with you no probs.

 

_‘It’s okay Stiles.. we’re here..’_   Derek sends through their bond and he feels himself relax slightly.

 

Figures, his Dad ran the plate number before coming inside.. cop through and through.  Before he can even open his mouth he’s saved from having to answer when the doorbell rings.  His Dad frowns at him when Stiles shrugs his shoulders, before moving to the front door.

 

“Melissa.. Scott.. what are you doing here?”  Stiles doesn’t need to see his Dad’s face, the puzzlement in his voice is clear from where it carries from the hallway.

 

“I have no idea.. all I know is that I got dragged out of bed by my son who insisted it was an emergency.”  Mrs McCall sounds worried and pissed all at the same time.  “When he knows I’ve got an early start in the morning.”

 

Scott’s walked into the lounge room and he just raises his eyebrows at Stiles more or less to say ‘hope you know what you’re doing bro’ followed by his Dad and Mrs McCall who wear the same parental expression of ‘this better be damn good mister..’ 

  


Although Stiles finds it a bit hard to take Mrs McCall seriously when she's obviously wearing pink pyjamas with the 'Powerpuff girls' printed all over who are beating the snot out of the evil simian 'Mojo jojo' underneath her coat.

 

“Uhmm I think you all better sit down for this..”  Stiles waves his hand towards the couches.  Scott and his Mom sit down, his Dad remains standing slightly to one side, his back to the wall and a view of the whole room.  Always a cop.. always vigilant.  Stiles sighs.. here goes.

 

“There are some people I want you to meet and what we’ve got to say might sound strange.. what am I saying..  it will definitely sound strange, but I just want you to listen with an as open mind as possible.. please.”  Stiles begs seeing the dubious expression cross Mrs McCall’s face.  His Dad’s doesn’t change at all.. he simply looks stern.

 

“Laura.. Derek..”  Stiles calls to the kitchen.  Laura and Derek walk into the lounge room and Stiles has to admit they’re a pretty intimidating sight.  Beyond good looking.. beautiful and with that dangerous edge that marks them as predators.  No wonder his Dad’s hand has drifted to settle on the grip of his gun.

 

Scott’s eyes go wide when he sees Derek, recognises the same scary guy from the woods, and Stiles can see him shift slightly forward on his seat into a more defensive position in front of his Mom all the while he’s pulling these horrified faces at Stiles that any other time he’d find hysterically funny.. any other time.

 

“This is Laura and Derek Hale my friends.. my packmates.  They’re werewolves..”  Stiles begins when his Dad pushes off from the wall he’s been leaning against.  No softness there any longer.

 

“Stiles you called me here for this knowing I’m in the middle of a murder investigation.  When I get back you and I are going to have a serious discussion.”  Woah his Dad’s so pissed that Stiles can practically feel the steam radiating out of him.   “You can apologise to Melissa as well for this little stunt.”

 

“Uh Derek I think that’s your cue..”  He says to the werewolf. 

 

Derek begins the change and Stiles can’t help but watch in awe.  It’s almost effortless.. not horror movie disgusting, no bones crunching or oozing of any sort, his facial features shift and rearrange themselves in seconds and Derek is in his Beta form.  Heavier features around the red flaring eyes and nose, hair sprouting along his jawline and his incisors have visibly dropped and jut out from his lips.  Is it weird that he finds him just as attractive this way as he does in his human form?  Probably.. but he can’t help himself.

 

_‘Stiles.. eyes up and front.. your Dad’s watching you watch Derek..’_

 

Heat washes over his face as Stiles resolutely faces forward not daring to even glance at the changed wolf.

 

Mrs McCall gasps, eyes wide and holds her hand to her mouth while Scott sits frozen in place, unmoving, his face like it’s carved from stone.. shock maybe, disbelief he’s not too sure.  Stiles looks lastly at his Dad, fear coiling deep within at what he’ll see on his face. 

 

The older man remains standing still, only his eyes give away anything and what he sees makes Stiles shift anxiously, there’s bitter disappointment in the blue depths.  Stiles is aware that Derek moves to his side and his arm presses lightly against his in comfort.. so is his Dad.  His eyes don’t miss a thing.

 

_‘Okay?’_

_‘Yeah.. thanks..’_    He can’t help but let his hand at his side brush against the other man’s, knowing it's in a blind spot for the rest of the room's occupants, knuckles touching in the briefest caress and can feel the little shiver that Derek makes and his stomach muscles clench involuntarily.

 

“Scott.. Mrs McCall.. Sheriff.. my brother and I asked Stiles to arrange this meeting for us because we needed to share some information with you.. and to ask for your assistance.”  Laura talks in a calm way that commands attention, Stiles isn’t sure if it’s because of her Alpha status or what but everyone is watching her and listening with fierce intensity.

 

“The dead man in the woods was a werewolf as was the person who killed him.”   The look she gives the Sheriff is composed and hard before she turns to Mrs McCall and it becomes compassionate as she says..  “The same werewolf that attacked and bit Scott..  and made him into one of us.”

 

There is absolute silence when Mrs McCall abruptly stands and glares angrily at Stiles.  Her dark eyes flash at him furiously and if Stiles wasn’t a little bit in awe and fear of her before, he is now.

 

_‘She reminds me of Mom..’_   There’s a tinge of sorrow beneath Laura’s approval and in Derek’s answering _‘Yes.. very..’_

 

“I don’t know how you pulled off this little trick Stiles, but it’s.. it’s not funny..”  Turning she grabs Scott’s hand to pull him up off the couch, only he doesn’t move.  He’s looking at Laura and Derek, his eyes flicking to and fro between them.. his breathing heavy.  Scott’s nostrils are flaring wildly like he’s scenting something particularly strong although Stiles can’t smell anything at all.

 

“Mom..”  Scott whispers hoarsely.  Eyes closed, rubbing at his face anxiously.

 

“Scott come on..”  His Mom insists sharply.

 

“Mom..”  Scott snaps out and opens his eyes and Mrs McCall gasps aloud as she and everyone else in the room can see that his eyes are no longer gentle doe brown in colour, but.. golden.  The eyes of a wolf.

 

She stumbles back looking at her son not with horror, Stiles doesn’t think she could ever look at him that way no matter what he was, but with disbelief and shock at the very least.

 

“They’re not lying Mom.. I can feel it.. I can feel them.. I know what they are.. God help me.. I’m.. I’m one of them.. a werewolf.”  Stiles can feel his own face contort with pain when he looks at Scott, his best friend, and sees the sheer horror distort the planes of his handsome face.

 

Laura moves to kneel down in front of Scott who’s panting in his panic and she takes his hands in hers.  Her eyes flare Alpha red in response to his golden beta glow and Stiles can feel a surge of power flow between he and Derek and then through Laura to wrap around Scott and draw him closer to the pack.

 

“Scott.. you won’t be alone in this.  I promise you, Derek and I we’ll help you.”  She speaks so gently to him that Stiles finds it hard to reconcile this softer version to the one that he knows, tough and uncompromising.  Scott grips her hands so tightly that her skin turns white around his fierce clutching fingers.  Eventually, his eyes recede to his normal colour though as does Laura’s.

 

“What do you mean you’ll help him?  Haven’t you.. you.. werewolves done enough?”  Mrs McCall rages at both of the Hale siblings.  Stiles’ Dad moves then and puts his hand on her shoulder and she spins away slapping his hand off, before growling almost like one of the wolves she’s so angry at, holding one finger up at him as though daring him to try anything.  If he were his Dad he wouldn’t risk it, evidently his Dad’s smart enough to figure that one out too and he backs off, hands slightly raised either side of him in appeal.

 

“Melissa..”  He begins.

 

“Don’t John.. just don’t.. this isn’t your kid this is happening to.”  Her face is flushed and her lips pulled back baring her teeth.

 

“That’s not true.. Stiles is in danger as well.”  Derek looks at both parents intently.

 

“What?”  They say simultaneously.

 

“Stiles, you've been bitten too?”  His Dad asks and the disappointment is long gone now and replaced by stark fear.  The kind he remembers seeing on his Dad’s face when his Mom was in hospital in those last days and those memories paralyse his throat and all he can do is shake his head.. no.

 

“The rogue that killed that man, that bit Scott he’s after Stiles as well.. he wants him uh.. for his pack.”  Stiles can see his Dad’s eyes narrow as he listens and hears beyond what Derek is trying to say.

 

“What do you mean wants him for his pack?”  His Dad is looking extremely dangerous right now.

 

Laura gets to her feet releasing Scott’s hands. 

 

“Exactly what it sounds like.. this rogue Alpha he wants to create a new pack and to do that he needs Beta’s to support him.. to be obedient to him which is why Scott was bitten.  Stiles he wants for his pack, but also as his mate.”

 

"Mate."  His Dad's tone is chlling and arctic blue eyes regard Laura assessingly as he digests it.  “If he wants Stiles so bad why didn’t he bite him already?”

 

Laura looks at him unflinchingly.  “Because Stiles already bears the mark of our pack and if he tries to give him his bite over the top of it he’ll die.  There are inherent protections in a claiming bite, sorta like magic and he knows this which is why he’s already attacked Stiles in the way he has.  Stolen some of his memories to try and weaken the mark.”

 

The Sheriff’s hand tightens on the grip of his gun, where it’s been resting from the moment the two Hales walked into the lounge room.  His face is death incarnate for anyone who even thinks of harming his son.  His other hand he reaches out to Stiles and draws him into a one-armed embrace.

 

“Stiles.. are you okay?  What happened and why.. for God’s sake why didn’t you tell me?”  Stiles buries his face into his Dad’s shoulder and just breathes him in, clutches his uniform jacket in tight fists.  The cologne and soap that his Dad wears is a comforting scent and the feel of him, how he holds him makes him feel safe like when he was a little kid.

 

“Yes I’m fine..  I don’t know what happened.  He mindfucked me and.. and whatever, he did.. I don’t remember.”  He pulls back and looks into his Dad’s face.  “If I did you gotta believe me Dad.. I would’ve said something.”  His Dad says nothing for a long time, simply staring at him.

 

“I think you believe that son.. but I’m just not sure that you would have.”  His Dad turns to face Laura.  “Tell me everything.”

 

 

  


It’s natural progression that they’ve moved from the lounge room to the kitchen and are sitting at the dining table, Stiles sits on the kitchen island bench holding his cup of hot chocolate between his hands. 

 

Derek’s standing next to him letting his arm rest against Stiles’ leg.  The contact is soothing and he’s realising that the wolves are extremely tactile, constantly touching each other for comfort and reassurance.  He notices that Laura is doing the same to Scott.  Not that his best bro is complaining about that too much at all.  He’s a guy and Laura’s seriously hot.

 

_‘Why thank you sugar.. such a smooth talker..’_   Laura smirks at Stiles from the table and his Dad locks onto that in an instant.  Of all the occupations that his Dad could possibly have in the entire world.. and he’s got one that specialises in observation and a certain level of psychology.. knowing what motivates people.  Yay.. lucky him.

 

Mrs McCall and his Dad are sitting with their coffee's cooling in front of them, forgotten.  His Dad had brought out a bottle of Jack and poured both he and Scott’s Mom a shot in two tumblers.  Mrs McCall had latched onto it like a lifeline raising the glass in shaking hands to her mouth as she quickly downed it.

 

Stiles can see his Dad’s fingers tap a jarring rhythm where they rest on the tabletop, it’s the only giveaway of how disturbed he is, as his face is impassive.

 

“This.. this rogue Alpha.  How do we stop him?”  Stiles’ Dad is in Sheriff mode, all his focus on protecting the people of Beacon Hills.  His Dad’s such a good guy, he’s awed by him with how much he cares and pissed off all at the same time, because when his Dad sacrifices it usually means his son sacrifices with him too.  Wishes he could be less selfish about sharing his Dad and his life.. but maybe that's for another time when he's not feeling like his brain's leaking out of his ears.

 

Laura rubs her face and pushes back her hair from her forehead.  It’s the first time that Stiles has seen her be this serious and so obviously tired that he wants to go over and just hold her tight.  She flashes him a quick look and he can see appreciation there, so obviously she’s felt what he wanted to do.

 

“He’ll come to us.  We have two of the most important things he wants right now.  His Beta, Scott who he won’t be able to influence directly until Friday when it’s the full moon and he undergoes his first change and Stiles, who he wants to be his mate.. and who he won’t be able to resist seeking out.. checking to see if the loss of memories is weakening the mat.. pack mark he bears.” 

 

“So you want us to stay together?  Easier to protect.”  Laura looks at his Dad thoughtfully as he speaks.

 

“I’m starting to see where he gets it from.. the smarts.”  She qualifies at his Dad’s raised brow.

 

“No.. he’s definitely more like his mother.. she was the brains.. and talented.. and beautiful.. she was everything.  I’m just a beat cop who ended up being Sheriff of a small town.  Go by my gut a lot of the time.”  For the first time that evening he can see a small smile on his Dad’s face.  


  


_‘This is kinda going better than I expected..’_

_‘Don’t speak too soon Stiles.. your Dad’s still suspicious of us.. wary.. I can scent it..’_

_‘Well he seems to like Laura..’_

_‘Honey who doesn’t.. but Derek’s right I can scent it too.. don’t worry we’ll work on him..’_

_‘We’ll see.. don’t underestimate him Laura.. I think we’ll regret it if we do..’_   Derek’s thoughts are so deadly serious and Stiles only means to lighten the mood when he says..

_‘Oh don’t be such a sourwolf..’_   As soon as he’d thought it he’d seen and felt both Derek and Laura flinch then freeze.   _'What.. what is it?'_

 

_‘You.. Stiles.. you called me by a nickname you gave me.. before..’_   Stiles looks at Derek and there’s a light in his eyes and a smile of such hopeful sweetness on his face that he feels his heart stutter and stumble within his very chest. 

 

Is this what love feels like?  The overwhelming need to keep that smile there forever.

 

_‘Yes..’_   Derek gives him a burning look and Stiles can feel heat rise into his face as he realises that he’s been broadcasting his thoughts really loudly.

 

_‘Crank it down a notch will ya?.. And stop fucking radiating happiness like that.. not only will the Sheriff pick up on it.. it’s making me want to vomit..’_   Laura glares at them from under her eyelashes before turning to Scott.

 

“Will I be able to change into a wolf too?”  Scott asks, now that the shock’s warn off, he’s starting to ask questions and almost looks excited, particularly when he finds out he doesn’t suffer from asthma any more.  Mrs McCall still looks sick. 

 

“No.”  Laura shakes her head. “There are two types of wolves.. born and made.  Derek and I are born, our parents were werewolves and their parents were and so on.. born wolves are the only ones that have the potential to change into full wolves and then it’s only if they are Alphas.  Made wolves are bitten by an Alpha and usually it’s to increase or maintain the size of the pack.”

 

“When you transition on the first full moon your appearance will be similar to this.”  Laura’s face instantly morphs into her beta one of heavier features, fangs and thicker hair.  Red eyes flash at Scott as she gives him a wink.  Mrs McCall’s gasp is loud around the table as she picks up her mug in a trembling hand and gulps down her coffee. 

 

“So you and Derek are both Alpha’s then?  You can both change into full wolves?”  Laura nods her head at Scott as she morphs back into her human appearance.  “That is so cool.”  Even from where he’s sitting on the counter Stiles can see the appreciation in Scott’s eyes as he looks at the eldest Hale.

 

“Could you change into the wolf now?”  Stiles rolls his eyes.. so not cool dude, his best friend is way too obvious in wanting to see that.  Laura leans forward, elbows on the table.

 

“I could if I wanted to.  But, I’m not getting naked in front of you Scott no matter how much you’d like it.”

 

“Can you read minds too?”  Scott asks in awe.

 

“Scott.”  A horrified Mrs McCall slaps her son up the side of the head making him wince.

 

Laura smirks in genuine amusement.  “No Scott.. I can’t read your mind yet, once you’re in our pack yes, but you’re a 16 year old teenage boy, it wasn’t too hard.  Plus you’re giving off a particular scent that’s unmistakeable.”  Laura laughs hard at his curious expression. “You smell horny.”

 

Finally, Scott looks embarrassed realising that A/ Laura knows what he’s thinking and B/ so does his Mom.

 

_‘She’s being gentle with him now.. just wait if he keeps that up he’s going to find himself on his back and an Alpha’s fangs at his throat..’_   Derek quirks an eyebrow at him and Stiles can’t help the twitch of his lips at the image that provokes in his head. 

 

_‘Scott’s like a great big puppy..  I almost want to roll up a newspaper and smack him across the nose for being such a.. hornbag..’_

 

_‘Never forget Stiles.. even a puppy can bite and at the full moon.. Scott’s going to be extremely dangerous.. even to the ones he loves most..’_  

 

Stiles sobers instantly at that thought.  Scott would kill himself if he ever hurt anyone.  

  


Stiles drags his thoughts away from such a bleak future and realises that Scott's still talking and waving a hand towards where he and Derek are in the kitchen and he feels like he's been punched in the gut when he hears his best friend out him in front of his Dad.

 

“Well maybe Derek can demonstrate, you were actually Wolfie, right?  Big black badass wolf, that’s just so awesome.”  Scott looks around the table in bewilderment at the sudden silence that echoes in the kitchen, it reverberates through Stiles and makes him feel sick.

 

For all the times for Scott to put things together intelligently and intuitively, it just had to be now that he makes a connection that his Dad had for once in his life overlooked. 

 

Stiles can see his Dad’s eyes narrow once again, before they turn to where he’s sitting, zeroing right in on the small gap between he and Derek. 

 

That’s when he realises that he’s put his hand down, gripping the edge of the kitchen bench and somehow, unconsciously, Derek’s hand is right next to his and it’s not even like they’re out and out holding hands or anything.. just Derek’s little finger has hooked over his.   Yet, it’s somehow even more intimate and revealing than if they’d been making out in front of God and everyone in the kitchen.

 

Before he can think.. before he can even comprehend what’s going on, his Dad’s on his feet and striding towards Derek.  Derek.. even though he could avoid it.. even though he could defend himself all too easily.. let’s the older man haul back his fist and punch him square in the jaw.  His Dad pulls back, shaking his hand before clenching it again and hitting the younger man in the face one more time.

 

Everyone at the table is standing up, chairs pushed aside.  Shock on Scott and his Mom’s face, anguished understanding on Laura’s.

 

“How long?”  His Dad shouts as Derek hunches over, wiping the blood from his split lip.  Stiles jumps down and nearly collapses on very shaky legs, Derek quickly reaches over and supports him, holding him up by his elbow.  His Dad’s eyes widen in fury and Stiles feels sick.

  


"How long have you been seeing him?"

 

“The hospital..”  Derek whispers and Stiles can feel the gut-wrenching nausea flood through Derek right at that moment.. every doubt, every fear, every self-loathing thought he’s ever had about he and Stiles together over the past 6 years crashes over him.. through him leaving him visibly shaking.  Leaving Stiles shaking.

 

“You monster.. he was just a kid and his Mom was dying.. fucking dying and you.. you took advantage of that.”  Stiles is starting to worry his Dad’s about to stroke out.. his face is red and a visible vein is pulsing at his temple.

 

“Never.. don’t you say that.. your son saved me.. Stiles saved me.”  Derek’s voice is hoarse with emotion.

 

“Dad.. no..”  Stiles feels ill at what his Dad’s implying it makes it all sound so.. sick and creeperish.  “It wasn’t like that.  We've not...”

 

“How do you know?  You can’t remember anything.”  His Dad’s shouting and it’s been a long time since he’s seen his Dad lose it so badly.  “And why?  Because another one of these monsters wants you too.  What is it with you werewolves.. you feel the need to destroy everything good and innocent in my son.”

 

“Dad nothing’s been destroyed in me.  I know..”  Stiles grips Derek’s arm, supporting him.. giving him strength.  “I may not remember.. but I know, Dad..  I know what kind of man Derek is.. a good one who would never ever hurt me.” 

 

“God.. you’ve got him thinking this is okay.. I’m going to kill you.”  His Dad unholsters his weapon and points it at Derek, the wolf dragging Stiles to one side out of the way when he tries to stand in front of him. 

 

Stiles cries out when he does nothing to defend himself.. in fact he’s almost sure that Derek's simply going to let his Dad shoot him when he stands up straighter and turns his chest making himself an easier target.  He’s not sure what an ordinary bullet will do to a werewolf, whether it will actually kill him or not.. but it’s going to hurt no matter what.. and Stiles can’t let that happen.

 

It’s as though he’s standing outside of himself, like the descriptions of astral projection he’d researched so long ago.. looking on and he knows that he’s drawing strength and power from his pack mates.  Can feel power coming from one who isn’t a pack mate but is close to him.. close like a brother and his need calls and his brother answers, opening up and letting him take what he needs.

 

The light pours out of him.. the golden glow flooding throughout the kitchen and he moves in front of Derek who isn’t strong enough to hold him back now.  His mate and it feels right to think of the other man like that and he has this incredible need to protect him.. keep him safe from harm.  Even if that harm is from his own father.

  


"Oh my God.. Stiles.. your eyes.. your eyes.."  His Dad's staring at him in horror and Stiles knows that his eyes are glowing red and gold, proof of his Alpha status and of his magic.

 

“Don’t.”  One word, but there is power in it.. enough to make his Dad and the others in the room lower their heads and cower unblinking as they watch him.. unable to draw their eyes away.  Laura and Scott arch their heads back to expose their vulnerable throats.

 

Stiles extends his hand and the gun rips out of his Dad’s hand and flies across the kitchen to land gently in his own.

 

“Never.. ever threaten my mate again.”  He feels Derek’s hand upon his shoulder and he tilts his head so he can brush his cheek against the other man’s fingers, his Dad winces as he watches them and it just enflames him even further and he pushes harder. 

 

“Stiles..”  Derek says his name softly with such love in it, he squeezes his shoulder gently.  “You can stop now.. you can stop..”

 

Stiles looks to where his Dad is buckled over on one knee, like he’s been weighed down.. pressed down by Stiles’ power and.. what the fuck?  What is he doing?  He lets go and the light falls dim and retreats back into Stiles’ skin.  He rushes over to help his Dad up, coming to a grinding stop when the older man holds his hand out in front of him to stop him coming closer and lifts his head to reveal blue eyes that shine at him with unshed tears before he blinks and they’re gone.

 

The pained anguish that looks back at him.. makes his heart clench and he can hear his pack mates.. even Scott whine in sympathy.  On his feet once more, his Dad holds himself rigidly upright, looks across to Laura.

 

“I have to get back to the station, I’m still on duty.  Guard them tonight.. I’ll speak to you in the morning.”  Stiles holds out the gun and his Dad takes it, seemingly taking care to not touch him before he puts it back in his holster and turns and leaves quietly doesn’t even slam the front door. 

 

He just leaves without saying another word.

 

“Dad..”


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The following morning after Stiles' confrontation with his Dad he discovers that his family's connection to the McCall's are deeper and more profound than even he knew.
> 
> Realising he has true feelings for a certain Alpha leads Stiles to find out first hand just how good they can be together. When he and Derek attempt to regain some of his memories they realise just how difficult the rogue has made it. It's starting to look like they may never be able to overcome the damage that's been done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my lovelies - thank you for the many awesome comments I received on the last chapter you all rock so much and I just love you all.
> 
> Special shout outs to Shannara810, Davin and Scarecrow_Dolphin who give me such great support - very appreciated.
> 
> Just a reminder that the amnesia is temporary - the cure is out there and we will get to it, so hang on.
> 
> NB. NEW TAG TRIGGER WARNING - There is a discussion where there is mention of a history of miscarriages and a retelling of a near miss.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - because..

In the snug little cavern that he’s created out of his blankets and pillows, Stiles burrows down into the darkness and ponders upon the practicalities of staying there forever.  With his phone and laptop he could easily get food and any necessities home delivered.. Scott could bring him any school work.. at least he’s got options and laughs bitterly, that would only work if he still has a home.

 

His gut twists violently and his chest goes all tight and achy when he pictures the look on his Dad’s face before he’d walked out the door.  He can’t even begin to describe the devastation that had crossed the older man’s features before the stern, harsh mask that he’s seen his Dad use on the job when dealing with scumbags and lowlifes fell into place. 

 

His Dad’s never ever given **_him_** that look before and it.. hurts.  Hurts so bad.

 

He’d stood there for what felt like the longest time, but in reality must have been mere seconds because he couldn’t look at anyone else in that kitchen.  Couldn’t meet their eyes.  Had to get out of there, so he’d just walked away.

 

Climbed the stairs to his room, deliberately blanking out his mind and his thoughts.. almost tempted to shut that gateway down again, but he can’t deliberately hurt them again like that. 

 

Can’t hurt his pack mates. 

 

Hurt his mate.

 

 _‘Let me go Laura.. he needs me..’_   Tension and fear edge Derek’s thoughts, fear for whom Stiles wonders bitterly. 

_‘Give him some space Derek.. you go chasing after him when he’s feeling like this.. it’s not going to be good.. for either of you..’_

There’s absolute quiet for a minute and Stiles starts to think maybe he switched off the pack bond connection by accident anyway, when he hears a raw and anguished Derek in his head.

_‘Laura.. what have I done?’_

_‘Loved him.. loved him with everything you are.. don’t worry he’s a smart kid.. the heart doesn’t lie and Stiles is the type of boy who doesn’t ignore his.. Give him time..’_  

 

Stiles can feel his heart tear open and bleed.. that same heart Laura’s discussing so knowledgeably about.. if it doesn’t lie, then what is it saying? 

 

No one’s disturbed him for the many hours he’s been in his room, not sleeping.  So when he hears a light tap on his door sounding like thunder in the silence, it makes him jerk reflexively in his bed.

 

“Go away.”  He mumbles knowing that werewolf hearing can pick it up from Laura’s very educational and often extremely disturbing ‘Know your werewolf 101” class from earlier.  

 

When the door creaks open he sucks in a sharp breath of surprise, even more so when he feels someone sit on the bed next to him.  The dip in the mattress has him rolling slightly towards them, even as he tries to brace himself not to.

 

“Stiles sweetheart..”  He relaxes slightly when he feels a hand pat him through the bedclothes obviously aiming for a shoulder, but with the way he’s twisted it ends up being on his ear.  He tugs the bedclothes down until he’s peering over them and looking into the concerned face of Melissa McCall.  She looks tired.  Tired and worried.

 

“Mrs McCall.. uhh is everything okay?”  Tension coils through him.

 

“Stiles I think after all this time you can call me Melissa and everything’s fine.”  She gives him a reassuring smile, it’s not a pretend one either that adults sometimes give to kids thinking they can fool them into believing everything is okay when it’s so very not. 

 

Stiles can feel himself relax, muscles unclenching the length of his body, fingers easing their tight grip on the bed covers.

 

“Laura’s taking us home so I can get ready for work and Scott.. well so he can pretend to get ready and sneak back into bed to get a few extra minutes of sleep before he runs late..”  She smiles at Stiles, knowing that he’s all too aware of his best friend’s extreme reluctance to get motivated first thing in the morning. 

 

He can’t help himself and he’s smiling back at her all too aware of the very early morning light slipping in between the slats of the window blinds.  If anyone can get Scott out of bed this morning he’d put money on Laura in a heartbeat.

 

“I don’t pretend to know everything that’s happening.. that has happened.. what I do know is that your Dad loves you Stiles.  Always.”   She reaches out and runs her fingers through what he’s sure is extreme bedhead. 

 

It’s soothing and motherly and Stiles can feel something inside of him.. that hole where his Mom’s absence from his life sits like a gaping wound.. it quivers and shifts inside him and Melissa’s touch smoothes out the ragged torn edges.

 

He huffs out a shaky breath.

 

“There are other things that I do know about.. You’re like your Mom in so many ways Stiles, it’s not the first time I’ve seen that light shining out of a Stilinski.”  She smiles again at him lost in a memory and he can tell it’s not about last night, Melissa’s looking inward, her eyes focused on things he can’t see.

 

“Scott doesn’t even know this.. your Mom and I were pregnant at the same time.. she was further along, but we’d see each other at the clinic for check-ups and we became friends.  You know meet for coffee.. well not really we were pregnant after alI.. it was milkshakes I would have strawberry or chocolate.. sometimes even banana depending on the cravings and your Mom always.. always had vanilla..”

 

“She would never try any of the other flavours.. always vanilla no matter how much I tried to convince her.. she said you couldn’t improve on perfection.”  Stiles whispers, feeling his throat tighten painfully even with those few words so he falls silent again.  Takes him a moment to be able to speak without fear of choking.

 

“Melissa, you need to know that werewolves have super hearing and I know that Derek and Laura would phase us out, not focus on it.. but Scott he may or may not hear you because he’s so new at being a.. you know.”  Melissa nods her head in understanding.

 

“It’s okay Stiles, he was still snoring when I came up here..  I will tell him though, he needs to know too..”  She pauses for a moment like she’s gathering all her inner strength and he starts to worry again.  She seems to see that he’s anxious all over again, because she shakes her head, no. 

 

“Sorry Stiles I don’t mean to come across all ‘secret squirrel’.. it’s just.. He needs to know that I miscarried twice before him... a little girl and a little boy.  Scott was the furthest I’d ever carried a child..”  Loss marks her face for an instant, before the no-nonsense woman he knows reasserts herself and she gives him a bittersweet smile.  His guts churn from seeing that expression on her beautiful face.

 

“One day I’d just left the supermarket and was about to get in my car.. God I can’t forget.. it had been raining.  The first rain after an unusually early hot spell and there was that smell in the air.. you know what I mean, like it hadn’t been enough to wash everything clean this first time.. and then there was the pain.. my body was trying to tear itself apart to get rid of my baby and I couldn’t even scream it hurt so bad.”  Melissa looks down into his eyes holding them with her beautiful brown ones identical to her son’s.  “The next thing I know your Mom was there beside me..” 

 

“She held my hand and then she.. she started to glow.  She glowed Stiles, just like you did in the kitchen and the pain it went away and I could feel Scott’s heartbeat within me and I knew he would be fine.. that this time I would have a baby in my arms.. that I wouldn’t lose my child again.”  She cups his face in her hands, thumbs smoothing what surely must be if not bags under his eyes at the very least dark circles. 

 

“We both delivered safely and I know what you think about Scott’s Dad.. hell sometimes I think those same things myself, but when I’d miscarried he was the most caring and understanding person.    When we had Scott, a healthy baby, it was then we realised that only our grief had been keeping us together, we’d forgotten how to be happy, how to be in love.  I think that’s why he resents your Dad so much.. outwardly they had the exact same things, only your Dad was happy.”  Melissa drops her hands into her lap and begins to tug at a loose thread on the bottom of her pyjama top.

 

“He didn’t want Scott to be with you then Stiles.  He tried to stop me from seeing Claudia and you, he was so freaked out about how you behaved together..”  Melissa purses her lips together tightly.  “I should’ve kicked him out then not waited another 5 years..”

 

“Wait… what?  How we behaved together?  We were babies.”  Stiles shimmies back against the pillows behind him.  What did she mean?

 

“From the first moment that you two babies were together, Stiles.. well we could see you had a special bond.. you and Scott.  If one cried you both did.. if one was happy and content, you were both happy and content.  You liked to be in the same crib together and the sobs when we had to go home.. have you ever heard a baby sobbing Stiles because it’s heart is broken?  It’s like nothing you’ve ever heard in your life and you can only pray you never do again.”  She shakes her head obviously remembering and from that look in her eyes, no he never ever in his entire life wants to know what that sounds like.

 

“Your Mom saved Scott and I will always be eternally grateful for that.. and that she gave him a brother.. maybe not from the same womb, but a brother none the less.  One that I know will stick by him.. help him through all of this..”  She laughs darkly. 

 

“I’d thought you’d be helping him.. by dragging him kicking and screaming to do enough to get into College.. not how to be the best werewolf he can be.”

 

“I..”  Stiles is dumbstruck and all he can think to do is to sit up and wrap his arms around his brother’s Mom.  She holds him for a long time.. it’s with a stillness, an unmoving all-encompassing embrace that he feels to the very core of him.. she doesn’t sway or rock him or pat him on the back like people do to signal they’ve had enough.. she just holds him and doesn’t let go. 

 

Stiles just breathes her in, scenting her almost like the wolves do.  Melissa smells of warmth and coffee, a subtle floral perfume from her hair..  She smells like a Mom should and of home and it makes him ache.

 

Eventually, she draws back and they sit there looking at each other as if seeing each other anew for the first time.  Melissa holds his hand between hers and the warmth of her hands sears his skin.

 

“The other thing I do know is to recognise love when I see it.  Your Dad’s seen the worst in his job and at the moment that’s all he can see.. everything he fears for you as a parent coming to life because he loves you so much.  Give him a chance to see the same thing I do.. that the young man who slept on the floor outside your door last night will always protect you and if necessary die for you because he loves you that much.”  It’s an unexpected double punch straight into his heart muscle, jab and cross and he’s left reeling.. head spinning, the room turning around him so fast he feels dizzy.

 

“What?  What?”  He breathes out weakly, feeling like his face is on fire.  Stupid blushing.. knows it makes him look like a kid.. cheeks probably so red.. damn it.

 

How is it that two of the strongest females he knows can see something so clearly and yet he feels like he’s been stumbling around blindly?  Who’s right and who’s wrong?  Does it even matter?

 

Laura had said that the heart doesn’t lie and Stiles finally knows what his has been trying to tell him.  That it doesn’t matter that he can’t remember how they were in the past, what’s important is how they are together right now, in the present and the bright and shining future that is beckoning him if he only dares reach out and grab it.

 

If he stops trying to rationalize things and look at he and Derek together not with his mind, but with his heart and his body he knows that feelings are there.  The crazed erratic thump of his heart when their eyes meet, the shivering urgent need to be near him all the time and the way Derek's breath seems to catch when their fingers brush together are all signs that Derek loves him and he.. yes he loves Derek. 

 

Well fuck-a-duck. 

 

He’s in love.

 

Melissa pats him on his burning cheek before she stands up, smiling widely, not answering him.

 

“I’ll see you tonight Stiles.”  He waves as she walks out the door and he can see beyond her, before she shuts it, that the hallway is empty and there’s no sign of Derek.  Stiles lets out the biggest huff of air and flops back onto his bed.  He has a lot to think about. 

 

Lies there for another 20 minutes not really thinking of anything at all in fact.. too numb.. too overwhelmed his thoughts darting all over the place like swallows chasing insects in the spring.  He can’t focus, can’t think. 

 

He hears the front door downstairs open and close and two cars depart, which leaves just.. oh.

 

Knowing that it’s just he and Derek in the house makes him feel physically restless.  His legs twitch and fidget beneath the covers.. so much that he can’t stand it anymore and decides to get up and have a shower.  See if that might help settle him down.

 

When he opens the bathroom door it’s to be hit in the face with steam and the sight of a naked Derek Hale peering into the mirror as he shaves.   Wait.. wait.. naked is wishful thinking.  He’s only shirtless.  Only shirtless, fucking hell.. if he was naked Stiles would probably self-combust going by the hot pulsing flare that rockets through his body at just the sight of the other man’s bare chest.

 

Stiles swallows hard as his eyes rake over the other man’s torso from the belt buckle that sits well below his belly button, up over abs that are so ripped he could grate the contents of his fridge’s vegetable crisper on them..

 

He can’t help himself and finds he’s mentally cataloguing Derek’s body like he’s an airline pilot doing the final safety check.. defined pecs check, browny pink nipples check, surprisingly fragile looking collarbones check, broad shoulders check, bulging biceps check, strong muscular forearms check, large masculine hands check. 

 

Those same hands that are holding a disposable razor in one and stretching the skin taut along his jaw with the other as he drags the blade across his face for what is obviously the final time.  It jerks wildly when Stiles walks in and their eyes meet in the mirror, he winces when he sees the long line of blood appear on Derek’s jaw, before it heals almost instantly.  Werewolf healing, so handy.

 

Stiles freely concedes that walking in and finding that body before his very eyes gave him an instant boner.. what makes it hurt though with an agony of longing is seeing Derek’s face.  He looks so very young, younger than Stiles could ever conceive of, his cheeks which are slightly flushed from the steam rising from the water in the washbasin go even darker, a deep red that wraps around staining his cheeks, nose and ears. 

 

His eyes look at Stiles, those fascinating amazing eyes that he could look into forever and Stiles could almost swear he sees a shy hesitancy, an uncertainty that makes him feel slightly breathless and.. he can’t stay.. has to get away.

 

Stumbles back and tries to drag the door back with him.  He hurts.. he hurts.. aches so bad.

 

“Sorry.. sorry.. didn’t know you were in here..”  Stiles winces as he hears his cracked voice apologising, just like when his voice first broke a few years back.

 

“Stiles wait..”  Derek begins, grabbing a towel off the bench and patting his face dry, but Stiles can’t.. he can’t fake a conversation with him right now because that’s all it would be, his brain’s not working right.. error.. 404 not found.. error..  404 not found.. error..

 

He staggers back to his room, arms wrapping around his belly to try and ease the aching pain that grips him so fiercely.  Can hear his panting breath as he closes his eyes, screwing them up tight as he collapses onto the floor near the end of his bed and huddles there trying to recover.  His cock is throbbing violently, the feel of cotton against his swollen flesh is a torture of the worst kind.

 

“Stiles.. baby..  What’s wrong?  Your scent it’s full of pain and.. and”  Derek groans softly, as he dips his head closer to Stiles’ and he draws in a deep breath through his nose. His nostrils twitch and flare wildly.  His mouth hovers over Stiles’ ear and he shivers when Derek breathes out one word.  “Need.”

 

There he is crouched beside him, still shirtless the dark blue towel draped over his shoulder, and Stiles can’t resist reaching up with one hand to touch him.. his love.. his delight.. his tormentor.   He exhales a shuddering breath when his palm feels the smooth skin of his cheek and jaw. 

 

“Derek.. please..”  Stiles moans aloud before stretching up and pressing his mouth against Derek’s.  Neither of them move, frozen in the moment where their lips touch, not moving just resting against each other’s.  Their first kiss.. the second time round according to Derek.

 

_‘Derek I love you so much..’_

Derek jerks his head back so fiercely that Stiles can only blink dazedly at him. 

 

“You remember.. Stiles I can’t believe it.. how?”  Derek’s holding his shoulders now, thumbs rubbing slow circles into his flesh through his t-shirt.. his grip tightens almost painfully when Stiles starts to shake his head, no.

 

“No.. I still don’t remember.”

 

“But.. you just said..”  Derek’s looking at him with such bewildered eyes that Stiles rubs his thumb soothingly against the other man’s full bottom lip.

 

“I know what I said and it doesn’t matter that my mind doesn’t remember, the rest of me does and my head’s just slow to catch up.  I love you Derek.. can feel you in here.”  He presses his hand to his chest right over where that painfully truthful organ resides.

 

"Are you sure?"  Derek rasps and Stiles can only swallow hard before he nods his head.. yes.

 

Derek’s eyes start to blaze at him the green swallowed up by red and gold and he rises up on his knees and is looking down at the younger man.  Derek slides his big broad hands over Stiles’ shoulders squeezing and moulding them over their breadth before moving them up his throat to cup his jawline, his thumbs tilt Stiles’ chin up as his fingers stroke and caress his face.

 

“I love you so much Stiles.. love you, need you, want you.”  Stiles can feel the hands pressed against his face start to tremble as Derek lowers his head and his mouth touches Stiles.  Lips brush gently back and forth eliciting a sigh from him and Derek slides his tongue into Stiles’ mouth.  Gently rubs against Stiles’ and the sensation’s like electricity.. jolting through him and Stiles groans deeply, incredibly aroused and moved by how tender Derek's being.

 

This is kissing.. this is what kissing’s like?  Why hasn’t he been doing this before?  Why hasn’t he been kissing Derek like this every minute.. every second since they first met?  Oh yeah memory loss.. scared to death of him and a parent that wants to tar and feather the other man who’s tongue is doing.. oh fuck.. fuck.. fuck.. such a lot of time wasted when they could be doing this.

 

_‘Stiles.. God.. can this be real?.. you’re kissing me.. thought I’d never get to touch you again..’_

_‘Yes.. yes.. good idea.. best idea I’ve ever heard in my life.. you touching me.. me touching you..’_   Stiles feels delirious the hands he’d not known what to do with, that he’d left resting on his thighs, move almost independently to Derek’s waist.  Runs up and down his sides, tracing the ridges of his ribs, Derek pulls back his head, tipping it to expose the long line of his throat as he growls low and whines high with every sweeping stroke of Stiles’ hands up and down, trembling fingers caressing against his skin.

 

A shiver runs through Stiles from the top of his head down through his torso and limbs.. once it starts he can’t seem to stop.  He’s shaking so badly that he can feel his teeth start to chatter, they click together in his mouth and he has to consciously clench his jaw tight so it stops.

 

_‘Derek.. please.. please..’_

_‘Stiles tell me you want this.. I need to hear you say it..’_

_‘Want it.. want it.. want you..’_

Derek gathers the trembling younger man in his arms and gently lays him down on the bed and lies on top of him.  God.. the weight of him.. pressing him into the mattress, it does something to Stiles sends wracking spasms throughout his body, jerking and pushing frenziedly against the other man.

 

Derek groans long and loud before he drops his head and starts to kiss him again.. scorching burning kisses that threaten to blow the top of Stiles’ head clear off.

 

_‘Derek.. Derek.. need you.. need you always..’_

_‘Hold me Stiles.. hold me tight.. please.. don’t let me go.._

_‘Never..’_

Stiles wraps himself around the wolf, spreads his legs and moans into Derek’s mouth at the feel of Derek’s cock pressing against his through their clothes.  It’s big.. more than big.. feels fucking huge.. feels just right. 

 

Hitches his legs around the other man’s hips and pushes up at the same time he wraps his arms around Derek’s chest with all the strength he possesses, holds him tight.. drives his mouth harder against Derek’s, pushes his tongue in deeper chasing the taste of him masked by minty toothpaste and that seems to be the limit of Derek’s control and Stiles can tell the moment he snaps.

 

Big warm hands push and pull at his clothes in a frenzy, before sweeping over the exposed expanse of skin and Stiles is dying.. dying because this has to be it, the end of life as he knows it.. it’s too good.. too much.  Derek’s over him and his body is thrusting hard against Stiles, powerful surges of his body as they collide together.. over and over.

 

Stiles whines when Derek takes his hands off his flesh, supports himself with one and moves between their bodies with the other.. tugging and pulling at clothes.. at his belt.. at his zipper.  Stiles breath catches in the back of his throat when he feels the other man’s knuckles drag against the length of his now uncovered cock.

 

“Stiles I need to.. can I.. please let me just put my cock against yours..”  He shudders violently as he says the words and Stiles is lost to the burning fire roaring through his veins, can only nod yes with wide eyes.

 

Derek’s hunched over him looking down the length of their bodies and Stiles lifts his head.. he needs to see this too.  Their foreheads touch and press against each other hard.. like a counterweight, balancing each other out.

 

He wasn’t wrong.. Derek’s big.. not in an abnormal mutant type big, but in a sleek beautifully formed.. mouth watering way.  Pre-come bubbles freely from his achingly purple red tip and it drips onto Stiles’ cock making him moan, feels like acid it’s so scorchingly hot and that’s it.. that’s fucking it.. he reaches down and yanks Derek’s hand away.. where he’s holding it up and Stiles cries out as he feels that heavy weight slap against his own hard aching cock. 

 

He’s blindly thrusting up and Derek’s covering him entirely, his weight pinning him down as he ruts against Stiles.  The bed shakes beneath him and from Derek’s movements Stiles realises he’s scrabbling to brace his feet and knees against the mattress so he can push against him.. hard.

 

_‘Want you.. want you so fucking much Stiles.. you burn me alive..’_

 

There’s no rhythm.. no smooth glide.. there’s only short jabbing thrusts.. interspersed with bursts of long grinding where they hardly move an inch.  Mouths clash hotly, tongues slide wet and wailing moans fill his ears and he knows they don’t all come from him. 

 

How he’s lasted this long Stiles doesn’t know, but it’s all over the minute he feels Derek’s lips and teeth trail from his lips down his jawline and onto his neck, where he starts to lick and nip, sucking the skin hard.  Stiles' balls rise high and tight and the nerve endings at the base of his spine tingle sending goosebumps racing across his skin everywhere.  The gut-wrenching spasms begin and he’s coming.. he’s coming and it’s never felt like this before he swears.  Nothing’s ever felt so good.

 

“Derek.. Derek..”  He’s crying his mate’s name over and over, eyes squeezed tightly shut and somehow that just makes the sensations rippling throughout his body so much more powerful without any visual distraction and a half naked passionate Derek is definitely a distraction.  His cock pulses and jerks frantically spurting his come over Derek’s cock and onto his belly.. so much of it.

 

_‘Can feel your come Stiles.. so warm.. all over me, all over my cock.. need it so bad..’_

 

Derek’s growling constantly, face buried in his neck, mouth working the flesh there nibbling and licking over and over, his thrusts are getting harder, the slide easier from all the slick coating them both, his grip tighter so he can keep Stiles in place.  Stiles can feel his urgency.. his desperation.. his need to mark in all the ways that matter.  He lets his hand drift up Derek’s back and shoulders to thread through his silky black hair at the back of his head and turns his own head to one side exposing even more of his throat and shoulder while simultaneously pushing Derek’s face in harder.

 

Squirming.. he realises he wants this.. wants Derek to take what he’s offering so badly he can barely speak.  Can only whisper.  “Bite me..”

 

Derek keens long and loud as his hips grind down for one last convulsive thrust and he’s coming as he bites down on that meaty part of muscle and tendon that connects neck to shoulder with blunt human teeth and Stiles screams not in pain.. but in the purest pleasure he’s ever known.

 

 _‘MINE STILES.. MINE.. MY BEAUTIFUL MATE.. MINE.. ONLY MINE..’_   Derek’s wild possessive thoughts and his hard bite shatter Stiles’ illusion that he’d finished.  Somewhere deep in his balls there’s one more spurting spasm to be wrenched out of him.. to pulse out of his cock and it leaves him wrecked and gasping.  Writhing trying to escape the almost unbearable pleasure.

 

They shudder against each other.  One tremor after another.  It’s so reactive, each spasm setting off an equally powerful one in their mate.  Stiles cock is still pressed tight against Derek’s and he can feel each and every spurt of the other man’s come from the moment it begins its journey from the base of his cock as it swells along his length and then out of the tip.  Almost feels like he’s coming again himself.  Loses count of how many times he feels it.

 

Stiles is surprised at himself, knowing he’s covered in their combined jizz like he’s bathing in it isn’t a turn off at all, in fact.. he likes it.  A lot.

 

Derek releases his hold on Stiles’ shoulder, gently licking at the mark.. soothing the lingering sting, before he rolls and so easily manhandles Stiles into lying across his body that he’s left gasping.  There’s something about the way he uses his inhuman strength so gently with him that it unfurls a warmth in his chest.. makes him glow and he can see Derek’s eyes widen at first before he has to squint as the dazzling golden light floods the room.

 

This is purely from inside him, he doesn’t need to draw on any of the power or strength of the other pack members.  This is pure Stiles, his emotions fuelling whatever magic he has and if he didn’t know it before, the strength of his feelings for this other man is deeper engrained than he could’ve ever imagined.  It’s rooted in his very cells, his DNA almost feels like his very being has been created solely for the purpose of loving him. 

 

 _‘You think I’m beautiful?’_    Stiles wonders why it doesn’t upset him that Derek doesn’t refer to him in more masculine terms like handsome or attractive.

 

 _‘God yes.. sometimes it hurts to look at you.. you’re so beautiful Stiles.. with those amber eyes that see right into me and your body.. it’s ughh.. feel like I’m just this great hulking beast next to you..’_   Stiles looks into eyes of green that contain a swirling galaxy of silver and can see only truth in their depths and feels his heart seize.

 

_‘Derek.. I.. you have no idea what you do to me.. I can’t look away from you.. want to keep you all to myself.. don’t want anyone to see you like this only me.. only me.. you’re mine and I’m not letting you go..’_

 

Stiles leans forward and presses his mouth against Derek’s, licking his lips.. licking and nipping at them before he sucks Derek’s top lip into his mouth.  Can feel Derek’s groan vibrate against his mouth and Derek’s holding the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair pressing him down, not letting him escape.. silly wolf as if he would even try. 

 

 _‘Open your mouth.. let me in..’_   Derek opens immediately and it’s heady stuff, knowing that Derek would do anything for him.. anything he asked of him.  Stiles lets his tongue slip in between Derek’s lips and starts to lick into the wet heat, trying to draw the very essence of the man out of him.. to taste it.

 

 _‘Never thought I’d feel your light again..’_   Derek’s watching him intensely, almost devouring him.  Stiles slowly draws his mouth away and lifts his head to look at the man beneath him.  Stiles can see his light settle into Derek’s skin, bathing him in the golden glow and Derek shifts restlessly beneath him.  His large warm hands sliding down his back, along his spine clutching at him convulsively as though he needs to reassure himself that Stiles is real.. that this is happening. 

 

_‘I love you Stiles.. can’t believe you love me too.. not remembering us.. I.. You’re amazing..’_

“Believe it.. I don’t know about the past all I know is how I feel now and I’m not hiding this..”  He gnaws on his lower lip savagely, until Derek reaches up and kisses him gently until he has to release his abused flesh to kiss back.  “If it means my Dad’s gotta learn how to deal.. then so be it.  Even if it means he doesn’t want me as his son anymore..”

 

His breath hitches momentarily at that thought.  “I wish Mom was here.. she’d understand.”

 

“She did.”  Derek says so simply and quietly that it takes Stiles a moment to register what he’s said.

 

“What?”

 

“I think your Mom knew what we would come to mean to each other.. I didn’t realise at the time.. I was only 16 and I’d just lost my family and I couldn’t.. couldn’t tell her that her young son was my mate I didn’t think she would understand.  She made me promise to look out for you.. keep you safe..  I don’t think she’d be too happy with me at the moment, I’ve done such a shit job.”

 

Stiles can only look dazedly down into Derek’s pain-filled eyes.  He’s struggling to comprehend.  His tongue feels thick and unwieldy in his mouth as he tries to speak.

 

“You.. you spoke to my Mom.  You really met her.”  Derek nods slowly, concern written across his face as he watches Stiles struggle.

 

“Stiles.. I..”  Stiles quickly puts his fingers over the other man’s mouth and Derek stills.

 

“No.. it’s good.  I’m so glad.. you have no idea.”  He draws a sharp breath in.  “You met my Mom.. why didn’t you tell me before.”

 

“There was just so much.. I didn’t want to freak you out any more than you already were.”  Derek shrugs unapologetically as though Stiles mental health and wellbeing were more important than any right he might have to know certain facts.  He can see that he and Derek might have some stand up, knock down, drag out fights over this in the future because he sure as hell wasn’t going to be kept in the dark for his own good.  He pulls a face.

 

“I wasn’t freaking out.”  He can see the look in Derek’s eyes as soon as he says it.  “Alright.  Maybe a bit.”  Sees the raised eyebrow.  “Alright, alright a lot.  I was freaking out a lot.  Why didn’t you tell Dad last night?”

 

“Your Dad.. last night he was too angry, it wouldn’t have helped.  Probably just made it worse.. he **_would’ve_** pulled the trigger.”  He says sombrely.

 

“If only Mom was here she could explain to Dad.. she always could.  When there were things I needed Dad to know, needed to tell him and I couldn’t.. she knew.. Derek she always knew.”  He huffs out a sigh.  Derek’s eyes grow wide and suddenly he’s putting Stiles to one side and sitting up.  Reaches down to the floor and grabs the damp bathroom towel and swipes at his belly and cock cleaning up all the fluid, before he turns to Stiles and wipes him down as best he’s able because there’s a fuckton of fluid covering Stiles.

 

Standing he’s tucking away that magnificent still semi-hard cock and doing up his jeans and belt urgently.

 

“What?  What is it?  Is my Dad home?”  Stiles feels his stomach dip and roll violently as he pulls his clothes into some sort of order, much as he stands by his earlier words.. he’s not looking forward to the inevitable confrontation.

 

“No.  Stiles, I’m so stupid.. your Mom wrote you a letter to give to you.. after.. on the 1st anniversary, but you told me she’d mentioned me in it.  Do you remember?”  Derek starts to walk towards his closet.. stopping when he can see Stiles frown.

 

“No.. uhmm yes.. I think was it.. can’t remember.. no I can..I can.. cemetery.. oww.. balloons.. you were there..  owww… owwww.. fuck..fuck.. Derek..”  Pain skewers through his head and he can’t breathe.. it hurts.. oh God it hurts so bad.. 

 

Fingers dig into his skull and he wants to tell Derek to stop it when he realises it’s him.. it’s his fingers are gouging in like they want to tear open his head and rip out his brain to stop the agony.  Can’t breathe and then as suddenly as it came on, the pain disappears and he tentatively opens his eyes into little slits.. and oh.. well that’s interesting.  How did he end up on the floor?  Cheek pressed into the carpet.

 

He moans softly as Derek rolls him over onto his back.  Through his slitted eyes he can see Derek’s forearms are pulsing with black veins leading from where his hands gently hold his head.  That’s better.. so much better.  Although anything would feel better compared to having his brain shredded by what felt almost like phantom claws.

 

“Stiles baby.. are you okay?”  Derek whispers.  He starts to nod his head, but that just makes his stomach heave violently.. no pain but not right.. definitely not right as he starts to retch.  Rolling over onto his hands and knees, stomach determined to wring itself inside out as he pukes up vile strings of bile and saliva, the taste in his mouth is foul and kickstarts another round of retching.  Derek sweeps the come-sticky towel onto the floor under his face so at least he’s not puking onto the carpet. 

 

All the time Derek’s had his hand on the back of his neck, lightly caressing his nape as he continues to draw out any pain.  He glances up and sees that Derek’s face is pale and a sickly sheen of sweat has formed.  Christ.. the wolf doesn’t have any sense at all.. would keep draining the pain off until he collapses himself.  Stiles lurches to one side shaking off that hand, before Derek can stop him and glares up at him.

 

“Don’t..”  Derek lets his shaking hand drop into his lap and leans weakly against the side of the bed.  Stiles doesn’t feel good at all, but at least Derek’s colour is starting to improve and his breathing isn’t as ragged.

 

“What the fuck was that?”  Stiles pushes up with shaking arms, folding the towel into a bundle, it was going straight into the garbage when he got downstairs.. beyond saving with all the bodily fluids staining it.  He flops back, leaning against the bed his arm pressing against Derek’s to give and receive comfort.

 

“Whatever that bastard did to you Stiles in tampering with your memory.. he’s tried to ensure that you have no desire to remember.. that you will physically feel pain if you’re close to unlocking a memory.”  Derek growls in frustration.  “Pain is the perfect deterrent.”

 

“But what about before.. when I called you sourwolf?  It didn’t hurt then.”  It doesn’t make sense.

 

“That nickname rose to the surface on its own, you weren’t actually searching for it and when you said it I don’t think you were directly linking it to me.”

 

They sit in silence for the longest time.

 

“You know it won’t stop me don’t you?”  He says softly.

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”  Derek’s voice is filled with worry and it’s all for him.  Stiles leans his head onto Derek’s shoulder for a moment before turning his head and gently kissing it.  A small smile crosses his mate’s face at this sign of affection.

 

How are they going to do this?  How is he going to remember without the pain practically killing him? 

 

“Why that memory in particular?  You’ve told me other things and I’ve not remembered a thing.”  Can’t work out why that memory has tripped this particular failsafe that the rogue has booby-trapped his mind with.

 

Derek takes his hand and rubs his thumb back and forth over the back of it.

 

“He’s made a mistake, been too clever he’s trying to get you to forget me specifically targeting any memory of me, but when that memory is tied to your Mom it won’t work.  Your subconscious won’t let you forget anything to do with her and therefore me..  It’s strange really.. he could’ve just wiped a great big chunk out of your mind, everything gone.. not bothered with being so selective.  Almost like he..”  Derek gets to his feet and walks over to Stiles’ closet and starts riffling through the shelves and amongst all the clothes, obviously looking for something.

 

“Like he what?”  Stiles asks curiously.  Derek stands in the doorway, somehow he looks even more worried by whatever he’s thought of.

 

“Like he cares Stiles.. like he cares.”  He steps back and continues to search.

 

“What are you looking for?”  Stiles feels too weak to get up, sits on the floor watching as Derek turns his closet upside down without speaking.  He emerges ten minutes later, frustration clearly apparent on his face as he punches the doorframe.  His knuckles split and Stiles can see blood appear and instantly he gets a burst of energy and he’s standing beside Derek holding his swollen hand.  Watching as the skin knits together and the broken bones shift and realign.

 

“Derek..”  He rebukes him softly.  Presses his lips to those knuckles that are completely healed now, seemingly within an instant.  Licks the blood off his lips and Derek’s growl rumbles softly in his ears.

 

“If I was to say to you treasure..”  Derek watches his face closely for any reaction. 

 

“You mean like word association?”  At Derek’s affirmative nod.  “Okay.. chest uhmm box..  Yes treasure box.”  Stiles screws his eyes closed, there’s something tugging at him.. like he should know this.  He steps around Derek and looks in his closet and it.. it feels like there’s something missing.. missing from that top shelf.  Reaching up he slides his hand as far back as he can go, nothing and that feels.. wrong.

 

“There should be something here Derek.. I can feel it.. something’s missing.”  He looks at the other man and sees relief in his eyes.  He has a little twinge in the back of his head but it’s not unbearable.

 

“How about if I say birthday?”

 

“Uhh cake.. candles.. uhm don’t know.”  He can see by Derek’s face that he’s not given the right answer, but the other man doesn’t want to push him too hard in case he has another attack.

 

“Wrapping paper.”

 

“Oh.. okay.. presents.. gifts..”  Derek nods and Stiles thinks about what he’s got.  A treasure box meant to be in his closet.. containing birthday presents for him.. from.. fuck.. pain grinds against the back of his eyeballs and he winces aloud.  Pants in loud breaths. 

 

Instantly Derek’s got his hands on his head, palms on his temples and fingers curving around his skull drawing out the pain into long black veins up Derek’s arms.  It’s not as crippling as before.  Almost as though the roundabout way Derek had guided him to that conclusion had been somewhat easier.. easier ha it still fucking hurt, but he understood now even if he didn’t remember.

 

Because their relationship had been a secret from everyone else, any gifts or tokens, mementos that he’d received from Derek had been kept safe, tucked away from prying eyes.  In a special box in his closet.  Which was no longer there.

 

“Do you think **_he_** took it?”  Stiles wonders aloud as he gently tugs on Derek’s wrists to let him know he’s okay and doesn’t need him to drain any more pain away.

 

“I don’t know babe.. maybe.. for all we know it could be in the garbage.”  Derek looks at Stiles.  Stiles looks at Derek.  They both turn and hurry out the bedroom.  Derek scooping up the disgusting towel to throw it away at the same time.

 

It would’ve been too easy.  Stiles looks into the garbage bin and thankfully it’s barely got any rubbish in it so they can quite easily see that there’s nothing even remotely like a treasure box or any of the gifts that Derek had brought in the past for him within it.  Disappointment wells within him.  Not only because it could help unravel the tangled knot of memory tampering the rogue had inflicted upon him but because he simply wanted to see the things that Derek had given him over the past.  Wanted to touch them.. to hear from Derek the stories behind them.  How he’d come to choose that particular gift.. where he’d gotten it from.. what his reaction had been.

 

“We’ll work it out okay?”  Derek’s hand wraps around his wrist and before he knows it he’s wrapped up in the other man’s arms, being held tight and when they are together like this Stiles believes.. anything is possible.  “Last night I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I’d be holding you like this again.. if ever.”  A momentary note of grief passes through his voice.  “I’ve never been so glad to be wrong in my life.  I love you so much Stiles.” 

 

Derek nuzzles his face into Stiles’ throat as they stand in the brilliant morning light on the outside back porch.  They simply hold each other and breathe one another’s scent deep into their lungs.

 

“You’d better go and have a shower or you’ll be late for school and Laura won’t be happy if you skip..”

 

“Okay.. you wanna come with..”  Stiles begins and Derek’s eyes flash red and gold and he draws Stiles deeper into his embrace.

 

“Better not.. if your Dad comes home and finds us in the shower together.. I’m afraid he won’t be aiming at my head or my chest with his gun..”

 

“Good point.”  Stiles can’t help, but smile.  Even sourwolves can evidently make a joke when things look dire.

 

 

After he’d showered, which was kind of a relief to get the last of the sticky residue off his groin and belly and brushed his teeth to get rid of that sour bile taste that had lingered on his tongue, Stiles quickly changes into pants, t-shirt and hoodie.  Slipping on his battered converses, he grabs his backpack tosses in the few textbooks he needs for the day and bounces down the stairs.

 

Derek’s in the kitchen, propped up against the bench drinking the last of his coffee, looking damn fine in his dark jeans and light brown Henley.  The way his eyes light up when Stiles walks into the room has him walking straight across and reaching up to bring their mouths together in a kiss that starts light and flirtatious and quickly dissolves into heat and sweeping tongues and panting breaths.  Stiles presses his groin in hard to Derek’s and feeling that huge throbbing length almost has his legs giving way.

 

“That’s enough.. Stiles please..”  Derek lifts his head and tries to suck a few deep desperate breaths into lungs which sound decidedly wheezy to Stiles’ ears.  That he has his mate begging.. damn Stiles can feel his chest along with other things swell. 

 

He backs off on unsteady legs and grabs the milk carton from the fridge and chugs out of it in great big swallows.  Derek’s eyes are locked onto his throat as he gulps it down, a trickle running out the side of his mouth, the white fluid dripping off his chin, he sticks his tongue out to swipe it up and hears a low vibrating rumble. When he puts it back in the fridge door, he can see Derek’s face is wildly disapproving and his eyes are blazing with red gold fire.

 

“Seriously, we’ve just been sucking face and you’re getting upset with me for drinking out of the carton.  Aside from the fact that it’s only me that drinks milk in this house.. alright usually.. my house.. my rules.. buddy..”  Derek stalks towards him, swiftly backing him up into the fridge.  He doesn’t touch him just crowds him in before he dips his head towards Stiles’ ear.

 

“When we have our own place.. if I catch you doing that, be prepared for the consequences.”  The heated growl that rumbles through his rigidly controlled voice makes Stiles cock twitch and jerk frantically in his pants.  His mind’s swirling, torn between.. shit they were going to get their own place together at some point and holy fuck..  consequences.. he was going to be chugging down so much milk he would probably turn into a dairy cow himself.

 

Consequences.  Oh yeah.. he couldn’t wait.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Stiles, a newly made werewolf and an Alpha werewolf's mate with memory issues, didn't anticipate the buzz of gossip that their arrival at school would create when they are dropped off by the gorgeous Hale siblings, Derek and Laura.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter and they just keep coming don't they - this was so long I've had to split it into two. 
> 
> Thanks to so many of you who've stayed the course with me and have let me know with such wonderful comments that you are enjoying it.
> 
> Unbeta'ed

Stiles turns off the Jeep.  The engine ticking over briefly as its working parts come to a complete stop and start to cool.

 

He blinks rapidly, almost dazed, because honestly he can’t even remember the drive here which would piss his Dad off no end if he knew.  He’s had that many don’t drive while tired lectures from his Dad and yeah he knows it can be just as bad as drink driving, but he’s 16 and sometimes stupid.. a lot stupid.  The thing is that his automatic piloting of his Jeep wasn’t just from tiredness he knows that.

 

He has a very hazy memory of leaving the house with Derek and then hey presto here they were.  Feels guilty because he obviously didn’t say a word to his mate on the entire journey, not even through their bond.  Maybe, because he kept getting distracting flashbacks to this morning.. of him and Derek and.. woah down boy.. down.

 

Pulling the keys out, he grips them tight in his hand.  Flicks a quick nervous look at the other man sitting so still in the passenger seat.   There’s a tension in the vehicle that he doesn’t quite understand, doesn’t know where it came from.. just that it’s there.

 

The passenger window is down all the way.  Derek must’ve been getting blasted by the wind as they drove and look at that.. how does he do it?  Not a hair out of place on his perfect head.

 

“I could skip today.. uhh stay home maybe?”  Winces when he realises he’s made it more into a question than a definitive statement.  Derek shakes his head vigorously, no.

 

“Stiles.. it’s safer here than at your house.”   He reaches out and wraps his large warm hand around Stiles’ and draws it up to his mouth, brushing light kisses over the younger man’s knuckles drawing in deep scenting breaths as he goes and.. oh shit.. was that.. was that his tongue flicking daintily at the webbing between his fingers?  Stiles shivers at the wet heat and it seems to snap Derek out of whatever compelled him to give Stiles’ hand an impromptu tongue bath and he quickly lets go.  Damn it.

 

“Usually with the moonstruck.. they prefer the cover of night, but I don’t want to risk it.  There’s too many people here for the rogue to attempt anything.. so school it is.” 

 

“I could help though.. I’m good at research.. on the net and stuff.. I won’t even look at any porn sites either, don’t need them anymore.”   He waggles his eyebrows lecherously wishing with all his might they were still in his bedroom and in his bed right now.   Feels arousal tingle through his groin at the thought, a flood of heat washing over him, burning through his veins. 

 

Derek smiles at him and combined with the look in his eyes lets him know without speaking he thinks Stiles is being slightly ridiculous when his nostrils flare suddenly as though something’s caught his wolf's interest.   Derek’s strong jaw clenches tight and he turns his head to look out the open window and Stiles can see by the way his broad chest is moving up and down that he’s breathing deeply.  

 

“What is it?  Can you scent something.. is it the rogue?”  Stiles asks lifting up in his seat slightly to see past Derek and out the window, but can only see other vehicles and kids from his school milling around.

 

Stiles can feel his stomach do flip flops as he happens to glance down briefly at Derek’s strong and powerful body.  Oh he’s been a very, very good boy in a previous life or something.. ‘cause wow.. this man is his mate.  He still can’t quite believe it's true, it's only the damp patch on his knuckles that tells him it's all true, all real.

 

“No it’s nothing.. don’t worry.”  But, Stiles does worry because Derek doesn’t sound quite right.. sorta choked up.

 

After a moment, Derek turns away from whatever he’s been looking at and back to Stiles.

 

“Laura’s hoping your Dad will let us take a look at both halves of the body today.. see if we can pick up any traces of the rogue.  We might not be able to scent another Alpha, but there may be a clue as to where he’s hiding.”

 

“Something you can use to track him.”  Stiles says thoughtfully and Derek nods in agreement.

 

“She also wants to see our Uncle who’s in the care facility here so there won’t be anyone at your house anyway.. aside from the fact that she’d kick your ass for skipping school and mine for letting you.  She takes education very seriously.” 

 

“You’re afraid of her.”  Stiles sniggers.  It’s awful he knows, but he seriously can’t help it.  His big bad, this one right here whose muscles have muscles, is afraid of his own sister, who’s at least a full head shorter than him and petite to boot.

 

“And you’re not?”  Stiles can feel his mouth open and close a couple of times while he tries to picture Laura kicking their asses.  It’s surprisingly not too difficult to imagine.

 

“Touche.”  He concedes. 

 

“There she is now.”  Derek tilts his head towards where the black Camaro is swinging out wide to park in front of the school. 

 

At this time of the morning it’s busy with students moving through the grounds from the parking area where Stiles and Derek are sitting in the jeep towards the main entrance.  It’s a natural meeting place for different groups of teens before they head to the lockers and the Camaro has drawn a lot of attention.

 

“She always likes to make an entrance.”  Stiles can hear the annoyance in Derek’s voice.  When Derek starts to unbuckle his seatbelt and moves to open the door, Stiles reaches across and grabs his arm.  Derek looks down at where Stiles’ pale hand has wrapped around his leather clad bicep, the contrast painfully stark, before looking back up into the younger man’s face.

 

“Uhmm..”  Stiles can feel his face flushing with heat as Derek quirks an expectant eyebrow at him.

 

“DoIgetakissgoodbye..”  Rolls his eyes at the way his own tongue’s tripped him up again.. by blurting out the words so quickly that it sounds like some strange obscure Eastern European dialect.  Funnily enough Derek seems to have understood, his luminescent green eyes start to bleed red and gold.. before he shakes his head, like he has to clear it of some inappropriate thoughts.  One can only hope.

 

Inappropriate thoughts for the win.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek’s rumbling voice, so deep and gravelly scrapes his nerve endings raw. 

 

"If you don’t want me to climb over there right now you need to let go of my arm.. I’m barely hanging on to not..”  He stops abruptly and simply stares.  Stiles can feel the skin around his too wide eyes go taut and he can feel his heart frantically double.. no triple its pace as he looks into the eyes of his mate and sees the truth there, echoed by rapidly expanding pupils. 

 

Derek’s on the edge.

 

“To not what?”  Stiles whispers hoarsely.

 

“Get you under me..”  The growl that comes out as Derek speaks is rough and strained and his hips shift restlessly.

 

Glancing down Stiles can see that Derek’s zipper is in serious danger of bursting apart from the pressure behind it.  What really makes him burn is seeing the way Derek’s fisted his hand closest to the door into the side seams of his jeans, claws hooked into the denim and his other hand is clawing into the fabric of the seat.  As though.. holy shit as though he has to hold himself back. 

 

As a fantasy that is seriously hot.. being fucked in front of his school by an out of control Derek, screaming out his name as the other man pounds into him so everyone knows who he belongs to, but in reality.. nope.. nuh uh so not ready for public sex.

 

Yet, he qualifies.  He’s not even had ordinary, garden variety, vanilla sex yet.  He’d seriously like to get bored of that first before he starts having to look around to spice things up. 

 

The heated vibrating rumble that travels throughout Derek’s body and into Stiles’ hand where he holds him, sends a shiver throughout his nervous system.  He could practically come untouched from that sound alone.  Okay.  So yeah.. never ever getting bored with Derek and/or sex with Derek in this lifetime apparently.  

 

“Alrighty then.. letting go.”  Stiles slowly releases Derek’s arm, even though every instinct’s firing and telling him to run from the big bad sitting in his passenger seat.  However, he knows that with most canines the urge to chase is very powerful and he doesn’t think that’s any different for werewolves, so he restrains himself.  Barely.

 

He feels like he’s doing one of those pretend slow-mo spaceman walks.  Deliberately making every move smooth and slow as he unclips his seatbelt.  In his head he hears how he’s gonna sound.  Casual.  Relaxed.  Chill.

 

Easier said than done when he’s terrified that he’s going to lose his virginity in front of the whole school and because it’s Derek, he won’t care.  So when his attempted casual, relaxed, chill voice comes out strained, high and pitchy he can only roll his eyes at himself.  Really, is it such a surprise?

 

“Uhh could you wind the window up before you get out please?  Oh and I don’t have central locking so could you push the lock and hold the handle up when you shut the door.. thanks.  My Dad’s gotta big beef about the car being locked up securely.”  Stiles opens his door and slides off the seat and reaches across to grab his backpack nestled between the two seats, freezes when Derek suddenly captures his wrist in an unbreakable grip and leans towards him.  Stiles pulse easily climbs into the high triple figures, when he squeaks out.  “Insurance.”

 

Derek’s licking his lips as he watches him intently.  Stiles can feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.. any second now.. shame he’s not got his baseball glove with him to catch it otherwise it just might flop around, pulsing on the ground and get all dirty and stuff. 

 

He can feel Derek’s thumb rub against his wrist, stroking his pulse.. making it hammer harder and faster.  Stiles just waits, doesn’t try and pull out of his grasp and eventually he can feel the tension ease in the other man.  He still holds his wrist but the grip eases marginally.

 

“That’s right.. your insurance won’t cover you if it’s not locked up.”  He rasps out and Stiles lets out a shaky breath in relief, he can see Derek’s eyes are lighter, he doesn’t look so hungry.  When he releases him, Stiles locks the Jeep up and waits as he and Derek look solemnly at each other across the blue hood.  Derek’s drawing in deep cleansing breaths and Stiles can see whatever tension that had been gripping him before ease.

 

“At least when my Dad’s not trying to shoot you, you’ll have one thing in common to talk about.  Your mutual love of car insurance.”  Derek rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance.

 

“What happened?”  Stiles asks curiously.  Watches as Derek shuffles restlessly on the far side of the car a faint blush starting to rise up his neck and spread outwards across his cheekbones.

 

“I.. uhh couldn’t stop thinking about us.. together.”  The way he emphasizes the last word leaves Stiles in no doubt as to what type of ‘together’ he’s talking about.

 

“Same.”  He blurts out.  Heat flaming across his cheeks.  They must look a sight blushing at each other across the  width of the Jeep.

 

“I know Stiles.. I could.. smell it on you.  God..”  Derek’s hands clench into fists where he has them resting on the hood and the dark hot look he gives Stiles makes him swallow hard.  “Your scent.. you smell like you want me.. you smell like you’re mine..  it’s so good.. I can’t resist..”

 

“I’m sorry.”  Stiles whispers, he can literally feel the embarrassment oozing out of his pores.  Great, his mate just got the biggest whiff of Eau de Horny Stiles.

 

“Don’t be sorry Stiles.. don’t you think I want you to feel this way?  That I need you to want me like that, because God knows that’s how I feel about you.”  Derek speaks with such intensity that Stiles can feel his knees threaten to give way even as that warm feeling in his chest starts to unfurl rapidly.  Derek’s eyes go wide as he looks at him.

 

“Stiles.. stop it.. you’re starting to glow.. pull it back.”  He hisses urgently.

 

Panic starts to rise and Stiles can’t think straight.. how.. how does he pull it back?  He doesn’t know how to.  The past couple of time he’s just let it run its course, until it’s over.. but if he doesn’t do something right now he’s going to be revealing his light to everyone in a very big way.  He lifts his hands and can see the light start to seep out of his skin.  Fuck.. it’s so ‘Twilight’ he’d better just change his name to Edward right now.

 

“I can’t.. I don’t know how..”  He frantically looks around and at the moment there’s no one really close by, but if he gives off as much light as he’s seen himself do over the past 15 hours or so then people are gonna notice pretty darn quick.

 

 _‘Relax Stiles.. I want you to tell me about.. lacrosse..’_   Derek’s voice is soothing in his head even as he reaches across with one hand and beckons for Stiles to put his hand in his.  When he does he has to admit to himself that Derek’s warmth against his suddenly clammy skin is.. soothing.  But..

_‘Lacrosse… are you kidding me?  Derek I’m about to go supernova in my school’s parking lot.’_

_‘I’ve only seen one game.. and I was only sort of half watching it because you weren’t playing that night..’_

_‘Really..’_   That actually makes Stiles pause mid-panic.  _‘You came to see me play.  When was that?’_

_‘Oh a few years ago now..  I do remember there was one kid on your team.. good player, but pretty intense.. kept ragging on Scott to lift his game even though he was only playing off the bench a couple of times..’_

_‘I don’t have to think too hard about who that douchebag is.. Jackson Whittemore.  He’s the captain now.  Captain Douchebag..’_

“Not like Greenberg? _”_ Derek’s voice is like ice and his hand tightens reflexively around Stiles’.

 

“No.. for all his faults and believe me there are too many for me to name right now.. he’s not a physical bully.”  Stiles’ eyes lock with Derek’s.  “Wait.. wait.. you know about Greenberg?”

 

Stiles gnaws on his lower lip.  Can feel his face screwing up tight in concentration.

 

“Greenberg unexpectedly confessed.  My Dad was really surprised, I remember that.  Almost like..”  He sucks in a deep breath, closing his eyes, shooting pain niggling at the back of his head and images try and push their way to the surface, but it’s all one big jumble and he can’t fix on any one thing.  “Almost like someone.. convinced him to talk.”

 

As quickly as it starts it begins to ebb all due to the heavy weight on the back of his neck.  Slowly opening his eyes he can see that Derek’s standing right next to him, his warm hand resting gently on his nape.  He feels breathless.  One of the worst times of his life and he’d felt so alone, not even his Dad had been fully able to take away that disturbing feeling of isolation that had come from being victimized.

 

But, he wasn’t alone.  Derek had been there.

 

“Have I told you how much I love you?”  He rasps out hoarsely, watches as Derek’s face lights up with a smile that leaves Stiles reeling at how young and happy he looks.  Beautiful.

 

“Not this hour at least.”  The smile changes to a very much ‘told you’ smirk.  “See lacrosse.. the perfect distraction.”

 

“What?”

 

“Stiles you stopped glowing a couple of minutes ago.”  Stiles looks down at his hands to see perfectly normal non-glowy skin.

 

“Okay then.”  With his head no longer hurting and his skin no longer glowing, they start to walk towards the Camaro.

 

“You know when this is over we should have a movie night.  Put on a few classics.. I’ve got an urge to watch ‘Blazing saddles’ not seen it for a while.  I’d like to watch a few of my favourites with you.  What about Star Wars?  We could have a marathon.”  Stiles keeps walking for a few paces when he realises that Derek’s stopped and is just looking at him thoughtfully.

 

“Or not.. what is it?”   

 

Derek looks pleased and worried all at the same time.  “Nothing.. just ahh ‘Blazing saddles’ it’s one of my favourites too.  I still remember the first time I saw it.”

 

“Yeah, it’s one of those sort of movies isn’t it?”

 

 _‘Or maybe it was just who I was with..’_   Derek's thought flickers through Stiles’ mind so fleetingly it scatters before he can latch onto it properly before it's gone.

 

Stiles keeps walking, aware that Derek is a few feet to his left.  Nowhere near touching, but he thinks it’s more for his benefit that Derek’s keeping his distance.  Bless his little wolfy hide.. he’s trying not to out him in front of the school not realising that Stiles doesn’t care.  He wants everyone to fucking know that he’s **_with_** Derek.  He moves closer and slips his hand into Derek’s who looks down at him with a startled but happy face.

 

 _‘You’re okay with this..’_ Derek gently squeezes his hand and Stiles squeezes back running his thumb over the other man’s wrist, feeling the pulse beat slightly faster.

 

_‘More than okay.. I want to go and put an announcement over the PA system and let everyone know.. Stiles Stilinski loves Derek Hale..’_

Derek’s hand tightens almost painfully as colour rises up his neck to flush over his face.

 

 _‘God.. I can’t wait to get you somewhere alone..’_   Stiles blinks rapidly when he hears that burning ember of a thought burrow into his brain and catch fire.  His cock twitches in his pants and he has to ruthlessly clench his other hand into such a tight fist so that his short nails can dig deep into his palm and help him to calm down.  It works.. only just.

 

Scott gets out of the Camaro and the two teenagers smile at each other.  Stiles is pleased to see that his friend is looking.. yeah he looks okay for someone who not that many hours ago found out he’s a werewolf, his best friend’s mated to one and oh by the way said best friend can do some freaky ass magic stuff while glowing like a proverbial firefly.

 

From behind him Stiles can hear a rippling wave of whispering and murmuring as the other students get an eyeful of Derek.  It’s not just the dark jeans and black leather jacket that make him stand out.  Or that he’s a dark brooding presence amongst the colourful flighty usually self-absorbed creatures that inhabit Beacon Hills High School.  

 

His attraction is a force of nature, they look at him and the wolf looks back.  Powerful and compelling, his masculine beauty has many of Stiles’ fellow teens simply stopping in their tracks to look at him.  He can see that the older man doesn’t like the reaction he’s getting, holding himself stiffly, shoulders back and chin lifted up in a way that would almost seem arrogant and aloof if you didn’t know him. 

 

Stiles knows him.  Can’t remember him, but he **_knows_** him can feel it inside.  Can see that the tips of his ears are starting to turn a rosy pink at the intense scrutiny.   He just wants to curl up around him, protect him and the shyness that he tries to hide.  Squeezes his hand gently in support.

 

“Don’t worry about them.. they can’t help themselves.”  Derek doesn’t look impressed at the least.  “No seriously I can sympathise with them because I can’t look away from you either.  You sure I can’t stay home today?”  He winks.

 

Derek shakes his head no, looking slightly less grim.

 

“Stiles no ditching school right?  Or I’ll kick your ass.”  Laura calls from the driver’s seat.  Stiles immediately looks towards Derek whose lips twitch uncontrollably as he mouths ‘Told you’.

 

Stiles leans down to look through the open car window at the other Alpha.  Laura’s expression is stern and undeniably one that says, she is indeed ready to kick ass.

 

“Okay.. okay..”  Stiles can’t help it as the laughter bubbles out of him.

 

“I mean it mister.  Kick.  Your.  Ass.”  That just makes him laugh harder and Derek has to lean against the side of the car arms wrapped around his lean middle as though it hurts.  Everytime they start to settle down one of them will catch the other’s eye and it will set them off into another round of snickering.

 

“Jerks.”  Laura huffs, before she cries out urgently.  “No Scott.. don’t.”

 

Stiles is bewildered.  What the hell’s happened?  One minute he and Derek are laughing uncontrollably and the next Scott’s eyes have flared wolf gold and he’s.. Jesus.. he’s even got fucking fangs.  His incisors have dropped and are poking sharply into his bottom lip and before Stiles can blink Derek’s grabbed Scott by the arm and turned him away from the curious eyes watching them.

 

Laura gets out of the car and moves quickly to stand in front of Scott and wraps her arms around him pushing his head into her neck, letting him scent her.  Scott presses himself in tight burying his face in her hair and Stiles can see the visible shudders that rack his body.  Stiles can hear a number of wolf whistles amongst the increasingly louder murmurs.

 

“Okay.. it’s okay.  We talked about this, Scott.  Knew this might happen.. it’s just the pull of the moon.. remember to breathe.  Let it go.. he’s a jerk.. you know it and I know it and I don’t even know the guy.”  Laura’s voice is soothing and she strokes Scott’s hair helping him to calm down.

 

“I can put up with what he said about me.. but not.. not Stiles.  He doesn’t know how strong he is.. what he’s been through.. I want to rip his face off..”  Scott’s mumbling into her neck and Stiles can just catch what he’s saying, but it’s more the way he’s saying it that has Stiles slightly shaken.  His easy going, always happy best friend sounds like he’s so pissed that he’s ready to do some serious damage or worse.

 

Stiles looks over his shoulder and scans the multitude of faces that seem to be looking back at him with a variety of expressions ranging from blatant curiosity to lust, obviously for the Hales he decides, to arrogant disdain.  That disdainful look belongs to Jackson who stares back at Stiles and curls his upper lip in sneering disapproval and Stiles knows he’s the one that’s caused Scott to lose control.

 

He’s standing with a group of other kids, most of whom Stiles recognises.  Danny who is actually a pretty cool guy and how he and Jackson are friends defies belief but there you go.  Lydia, she of the strawberry mane, who he’d once unbelievably thought would be the future Mrs Stiles Stilinski back in 3rd grade and next to her looking at.. at.. well hello, at Scott with big brown eyes is the pretty new girl who started yesterday and for the life of him he can’t remember her name.  Scott probably would though, he’d been quite taken with her.

 

“What did Jackson say?”  Stiles asks Derek quietly.  Derek shakes his head, but his jaw is clenched and his eyes are hard and icy as he looks over at where that little group is standing.  Jeez, if he were Jackson he’d be hauling ass outta there so fast at that expression.

 

Derek moves closer to him.

 

“Do you stilI want a goodbye kiss?  I want to..  but, I won’t mind if you tell me no, holding hands in front of your school is one thing, but a kiss.. I’ll understand.”  Derek’s looking at him with a gentle loving intensity that’s somehow more powerful than if he’d been scorching him with fiery red eyes and burning hunger within them.  Stiles is instantly lost and he takes a step closer.

 

 _‘Yes.. always yes..’_  

 

Stiles can’t help the surge of longing that accompanies that thought through their mate bond and is gratified to see Derek’s pupils expand as he sucks in a harsh shaky breath.

 

Placing his hands on Derek’s hips under his leather jacket, Stiles digs his fingers into the denim fabric of his jeans, undecided if it’s to drag his mate in closer or to hold himself up when the anticipation becomes too much for his suddenly weak knees.  Derek lifts his hands and cups Stiles face and looks into his eyes, amber meeting green neither able to look away.. neither seeing or hearing anyone else.  

 

Derek has an inch maybe two in height on Stiles and he slowly lowers his head, and his mouth gently brushes against Stiles, over and over leaving them tingling and sensitized.  Stiles pushes up on his toes and presses into Derek’s mouth harder and he can feel the soft moan the other man makes against his lips, before he reluctantly pulls away.

 

“Come on loverboy..”  Laura punches Derek in the arm and he frowns at her.  “You’ve staked your claim in front of all the other pups and we’ve got things to do.”  She reaches out and ruffles Stiles’ hair affectionately.  He only makes a token objection knowing that this is all being part of a pack, the need to touch and be touched by your pack mates.

 

“See you later boys.  Scott be cool, okay.”  She pats Scott on the cheek as she passes him and goes round to the driver’s side and gets in.

 

“I’ll see you later.”  Stiles just nods at Derek who somehow seems to be holding his hand and when did that happen?  As he walks away their hands still linked until they have their arms outstretched and then it’s the last fleeting brush of fingertips as Derek opens the shotgun door and gets in. 

 

“Be careful today Stiles.  You stick together and be on the alert for any new faces around you okay? One of us should be here to meet you after.  Right here.  If there’s a problem or a delay I’ll text you.”

 

“Okay.  See you later.”  Scott and he wave as the Camaro roars to life and shoots away with the two Alphas.  Stiles turns to Scott, the uproar behind them almost deafening.

 

“You okay?”  Stiles knows he’s asking a lot of unspoken questions in that one.. are you okay being a werewolf.. are you okay now and don’t want to tear Jackson’s face off.. are you okay with your best friend being in love with another guy.. are you simply okay?

 

Scott’s open expression eases something deep inside Stiles, the fear that things would be too strange or weird between them.

 

“I’ve got my **_brother_** with me.. and we’re gonna kick this werewolf thing on its ass.”  Scott smiles and it’s that sweet one that reaches his eyes that Stiles always associates with his friend.  It’s not lost on him the way Scott emphasizes ‘brother’ either.

 

“Your Mom told you..”

 

“Yeah, when we got home this morning.”  He breathes out a huff of air and lifts his hand and pushes back the wayward strands of  wavy dark hair that fall across his forehead.  “Stiles.. your Mom she saved me.  Saved my life.”

 

Stiles can hear the wonder in Scott’s voice when he says it and realises that his Mom was a powerful influence on a lot of lives around Beacon Hills and not just on her own family.  The Hales and the McCalls have been touched by her strength and magic too.  God he misses her so much.. that ache just never goes away and he doesn’t want it to.  The minute it does.. it means he’s starting to forget and that wasn’t going to happen.  Never ever.

 

“Shall we..”  Stiles indicates with a tilt of his head towards the school entrance and the gauntlet of students that they have to walk through. 

 

“We shall..”  Scott echoes in reverse, with a laughing smile. 

 

They both turn and start to walk through the crowd which parts before the two teens, Stiles feels pride in his best friend because they don’t hesitate, they don’t blush or stumble or not meet people’s eyes.  There is a confidence in knowing that they are friends, brothers and soon-to-be-pack and that they will always have each other’s back.

 

 

 

It ends up being an okay day at school and if Stiles can’t stop yawning constantly he has no one but himself to blame staying up all night.  There’s many speculative glances thrown his and Scott’s way, whispers when he enters a classroom, but no one has the balls to come right up and ask about the morning’s PDA.  That is until lunchtime and Lydia Martin.

 

“You know you could’ve told me.. what was going on with you and.. and Derek.”  Scott looks down at his half eaten burger and pushes it away.  Stiles doesn’t have to be a wolf to sense the hurt in his friend.

 

“I know I could’ve and I know you would’ve kept it secret for me.. I don’t doubt that.”  He reaches across and grabs his friend’s hand and squeezes it lightly. 

 

“I may not have my memories, but I'm pretty sure me not telling you was more than just me falling in love with another guy.  It was Derek’s secret too.. and Laura’s.”  Scott’s head lifts at the mention of the Alphas and Stiles tries to impress on him his reasoning. 

 

“It’s dangerous Scott, don’t fool yourself into thinking it’s not.  Derek and Laura’s family were killed.. murdered by hunters.  All of them.. men, women and children.  I couldn’t risk it.. not my Dad or you and your Mom.”

 

Scott says nothing and Stiles knows it’s because he’s running it all through his head.. eventually he nods in agreement. 

 

“Alright.. I get it, but no more secrets.  Okay.”  They smile at each other in understanding.

 

“Are you gonna be feeling everyone up now Stilinski?  Now that you’re outta the closet.”  Stiles looks up and Jackson’s got the biggest smirk on his face as he looks pointedly at where Stiles’ hand rests on top of Scott’s, while Lydia rolls her eyes as she elbows him in the side.  The new girl, Allison.. Scott as it turns out did remember her name, looks mortified and smiles almost apologetically at both he and Scott.

 

“Don’t be jealous Jackson.. I’ll get to you, just wait your turn.”  Stiles can see Lydia flick him a quick look before she turns her head away from her boyfriend and smiles.  Jackson gives him a killing look and grunts as he quickly leaves to join Danny at another table.  The two girls stay behind.

 

“Your boyfriend and girlfriend are.. interesting.”  Lydia lets the last word roll off her tongue in such a way that it incorporates a whole lot of other meaning behind it and Stiles can feel heat in his own cheeks now and catches Scott’s eye and realises he’s feeling just as embarrassed.

 

“She’s not my girlfriend.”  Scott is seemingly instantly mesmerized by the breathtaking smile that Allison gives him in return.

 

“But he is my ma.. boyfriend.”  Stiles stumbles and his insides quiver as he says it out loud, acknowledging that he and Derek are together to someone outside his pack.  He puts his hands into his lap to hide their trembling.

 

“Like I said Stiles.. interesting.”  With one raised eyebrow and the pursing of her glossy red lips she and Allison join the others of their group at the other table.  Stiles doesn’t think Lydia’s being derogatory in any way as to why someone who looks like Derek Hale is even remotely interested in Stiles Stilinski, it’s more that they are a puzzle and she has to pull it apart and find out what makes it tick. 

 

Which is what makes Lydia Martin so dangerous.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles regains a very frightening memory and has a strange encounter at his school. Derek meets Stiles after school with news about the rogue and Stiles is afraid for the Alpha's safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for being so awesome and the kudos and the comments - they are really appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> Here is the you tube address for the somehow very catchy 'pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows'.
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m_fc3_ixN9Q
> 
>  
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

**_Stiles switches on his bedroom light and throws his jacket on the end of his bed before sitting on his desk chair making it swivel back and forth his legs leaning from one side to the other as he pivots, body twisting.  He hopes Scott’s gonna be okay out there ‘coz he’s not answering his phone.. anxiety twists his gut.  He tries to shake it off, nuh uh..  he’s not gonna sleep tonight he can feel it._ **

****

**_Guilt is thick and sour in this throat, choking him.  First because he’d had to leave Scott behind even though he knows his best friend wouldn’t have wanted to get busted and second because his Dad hadn’t relented on the rule about Stiles not going into the woods alone.. ever.  Which he oh so eloquently reminded him of when he escorted him back to his Jeep and proceeded to hug him and simultaneously ground him for the next 2 weeks._ **

****

**_There was no way he could stick around though, his Dad waited and watched him drive off and there were a number of patrol cars cruising up and down the roads to the preserve.  All the Deputies know his Jeep and if he pulled off to one side of the road to wait for Scott to emerge from the woods.. well it wouldn’t have gone unnoticed._ **

****

**_Sighing he sends one more text asking Scott to send a message when he gets home.  Looking down at his desk he can see the notes he’s made for his economics paper on wants versus needs in relation to the national economy with examples.. Coach is big on examples being provided.  It’s due in a couple of days, so he should really finish it off even though he’d really rather jump onto Netflix and let his brain wind down while he waited to hear from his best friend._ **

****

**_Cursing under his breath, he switches on his laptop, fingers tapping out a jerky beat as he waits for it to boot up.  As he looks at the dark screen he realises it’s reflecting the room behind him including the window and his heart leaps when he sees twin points of flaming red looking in._ **

****

**_Spinning right around Stiles can’t believe it.  He’s here.. he’s here.. wants to stand and run to the window but he can’t, his legs feel suddenly weak._ **

****

**_“Derek.”  He calls out softly.. can’t understand why he’s not yelling his name, screaming it because he’s missed him so much.. but he doesn’t._ **

****

**_Then it dawns on him why his brain can’t reconcile those red burning eyes and match them with Derek.  It’s not him.  Since Stiles claimed him with his magic those eyes have always glowed at him red fringed with gold and these are pure blood red.  It’s not Derek looking in his window._ **

****

**_“Laura.. come on stop messing around..”  He can hear how brittle and sharp his voice sounds, because he can’t quite believe it’s Laura out there either._ **

****

**_Stiles can’t see anything outside the window it’s a darkness that is so pure that light can’t penetrate it and he feels a prickle of fear at the nape of his neck.  The window starts to slide up so slowly, but he still can’t see outside.. no light of any kind.. no streetlights, no lights from the neighbouring houses, no stars.. no moon._ **

****

**_He’s scared now.. so scared.  This isn’t right.. he can feel how very, very wrong it is.  Darkness is coming._ **

****

**_“Stiles.”  It knows his name._ **

****

**_His chair tips over when he jumps up to run, but it’s too late.  It’s in the room with him._ **

****

**_Darkness has him and it has white gleaming fangs and razor sharp claws._ **

****

**_It’s pulling him down and he tries to struggle he really does but he can’t seem to move no matter what he does.  Pinning him face first onto his bed, he can feel it’s warm breath on his neck as it draws his scent in followed by a harsh growl of anger and disapproval.  Then there’s such excruciating pain at his nape.. in his head.  He’s breathless.  Can’t even scream._ **

****

**_But he fights with his mind.. fights with everything he has because the darkness.. it’s trying to take Derek away from him and he can’t.. can’t lose Derek.  It’s trying to take him away from him.. it’s trying to take someone from him.. it’s trying to take something important from him.. it’s trying to take..???_ **

****

**_There’s an empty space inside him.. inside his head and he grieves its loss even when he can’t remember what it was that filled it._ **

****

**_It strokes his hair gently and rubs its face soothingly into the sensitive skin below his ear, holds him like a lover.  The voice that whispers in his ear is silver-tongued.  A devil sitting on his shoulder and it lies and tells him that everything will be alright and Stiles believes it.. wants to believe it so bad._ **

****

**_Everything will be alright if he does what he’s told, if he rids himself of the shackles of the past.. of any and all reminders.  It must all go and by his hand.  The darkness insists that it’s the only way to make things right.  It tells him he won’t remember this hurt.. won’t remember this conversation.. that it’s for the best and that it only wants Stiles to be happy and stay with it forever._ **

****

**_That it missed it’s chance once.. but not a second time._ **

****

**_When it leaves it promises to come back for him soon and Stiles can only lie curled up on his bed shaking uncontrollably.  Mourning for whatever it is that he’s lost._ **

****

**_He’s standing outside, the night sky dark and ominous, the partial moon shining down, enough that he can see the metal drum in front of him.  The one they use if it gets chilly during the late afternoon cookouts his Dad likes to host for his officers, where they can unwind with a beer and a burger that’s not so much grilled as charcoaled._ **

****

**_He’s got the gas firelighter in one hand and tucked under his other arm is a box, it’s a bit bigger than a shoebox and the compulsion to put it on top of the sticks and screwed up paper in the drum is so powerful that he’s shaking with it.  There’s just as strong a compulsion not to.  He doesn’t know where it comes from, maybe some deeper core within him.. something that sparks in resistance.  He flicks the lighter on then off.  On off on off on off on off on off._ **

****

**_The moon’s sitting much lower in the sky over his shoulder when he realises there’s only one person.. one place that it will be safe and_**.. Stiles.. Stiles.. wake up Stiles.. STILES..

 

Stiles jerks wildly at the hand that’s shaking him awake and his arm flings out knocking over the pile of books that he’d gathered for research onto the floor.  Can feel his pulse throbbing in his neck almost painfully as his heart thunders in his chest. 

 

Danny’s standing over him and the worry on his face helps to settle him as he looks around the library and can see a number of eyes watching them avidly.  Eagerly storing away every detail to gossip over as soon as they thumb across their phone screens for access.

 

“Stiles you okay?”  Danny asks, removing his hand from Stiles’ shoulder.  “You were moaning and crying out in your sleep.. and not in a good way.”

 

“Uh.. yeah.. yeah I’m fine Danny.  Hardly slept last night and I feel a bit wrecked.”  Stiles rubs at his eyes.. flicks a look at the clock on the wall.. almost the end of last period, his free one and he’s done nothing on that essay for Finstock.  The essay that he was about to work on in his dream.. he shivers at the memory of the darkness.  Of that silver-tongued voice whispering in his ear.

 

“Yeah I think I know why you didn’t get much sleep.”  Danny smirks and Stiles looks at him puzzled ‘cause how did he know about.. oh.. oh he suddenly realises what Danny’s implying and because there’s partial truth in it Stiles can’t help but blush, heat burning in his cheeks, which causes the other boy to laugh delightedly, but not in a mean way.

 

“If only I’d known you were into ball sports Stiles..”  He shrugs with a smile.   “And your friend.. nice.”  He winks in approval before moving back to his desk.

 

Really.. did he just say.. Danny and he.. oh.

 

It’s close enough to the bell that he can leave.  He picks up the books he’d knocked onto the floor with his wild flailings and puts them on the shelving trolley before sweeping up his stuff and heading out to his locker.  The hallways are deserted, everyone else is still in class and he can hear murmurings from behind the closed classroom doors so he doesn’t feel alone. 

 

His head’s thundering, did he seriously dream about **_that_** night.  It may have been a dream, but it didn’t feel that way entirely.  The only distortion or ripple that lets you know you’re dreaming was in the Darkness, the rogue.  He never got to see it and he doesn’t know whether that’s his mind protecting him or something that the Darkness compelled him to forget.  The rest of it was all too real.. it felt like memory.. true memory.

 

He shoves his stuff into his locker and grabs his history textbook to take home and study that night.  Rests his forehead against the cold metal of the locker next to his. 

 

He’d had his treasure box in his hands that night.. had been on the verge of destroying it and all its contents.  Something tells him that he didn’t.. but what he did with it.. he’s got no idea, can’t remember.  Damn, if only Danny had left him for a couple more minutes..

 

“Excuse me..”  The masculine voice comes from behind him and it’s so unexpected that Stiles yelps and practically climbs into his locker in fright.  Text book falling onto the floor with a loud thunk.

 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”  The guy’s bending over to pick up the book and he hands it to Stiles who’s watching him warily.

 

When he stands up Stiles can see he’s an older man, in his thirties maybe, good looking for his age.  The blue eyes are quite captivating as they watch him with amusement.  He’s wearing a black leather coat, dark red shirt and black trousers.  Leather must be so **_in_** this season for all the attractive people.  There’s a sophisticated, urbane air about him that tells anyone observing him that he’s extremely comfortable in his skin.

 

“I didn’t hear you..  at all.”  Stiles looks up and down the hallway, they’re alone.  He can’t quite believe he wouldn’t have noticed someone sneaking up on him.

 

“You were pretty lost in thought.”  Okay Stiles concedes that. 

 

“Can you tell me where the administration office is?”  His voice is smooth and confident, almost seductive.  Stiles feels something inside him sit up and take instant notice and mentally shakes himself.  What’s going on?  There’s something about being in the presence of this man and in hearing his voice, that makes him want to take him there personally almost a compulsion, but he thinks better of it.  Thinks about Derek and he feels a lot clearer able to shake off the crazy mixed up distortion of his senses.

 

“Yeah sure..  left at the end of the hallway then a right and if you keep walking you can’t miss it.”  He doesn’t miss the almost unnatural impassivity of the man’s face as he waits as though expecting Stiles to say something more, but for once in his life, Stiles obeys his instinct which is telling him to stay quiet.   A long stretched out minute passes and eventually an edgy smile of gleaming white teeth stretches the man’s mouth wide and he’s definitely a good looking guy when he does that, but Stiles wishes it wasn’t directed at him.  It makes him feel.. squicky inside.

 

“Thanks Stiles.”  The man starts to walk away.

 

“What?  Wait.. wait.  Do I know you?  How did you know my name?” Alarm bells are ringing in his head and Stiles slides his hand into his pocket ready to pull out his phone and call Derek while he runs.

 

The man turns back and moves in so close that Stiles instinctively takes a step back, but his locker’s right behind him, in the way.  There’s nowhere else to go, he lifts the textbook like it’s a shield before him and the man smirks even as he presses his chest against it.

 

“Your name’s on your textbook and on your other things.”  He points towards the open locker and yeah there’s books and paperwork mixed in with his name all over them. 

 

“Oh..” Stiles doesn’t take his hand off his phone. 

 

“Stiles.. an unusual first name.”  Stiles doesn’t reply, just watches the other man.  His blue eyes are focused on him with an intensity that’s intimidating, he looks down at the history textbook that Stiles is holding, before they lighten as he smiles. 

 

“History.. one of my favourite subjects.  You know Stiles, there’s a famous quote ‘those who don’t know history are destined to repeat it’.”  He leans forward and whispers into Stiles’ ear his breath warm against his skin and he can’t help the shudder that ripples through him, it’s not from pleasure.. no far from it.  “I know my history.”

 

What the fuck?  What does he mean? 

 

“See you around Stiles.”  He walks away, moving with a rolling effortless glide, and throws a careless salute over his shoulder.

 

Stiles shuts his locker and grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, when the man turns the corner Stiles runs as quietly as he can to the end of the hallway and peers around.  Nothing.  Not surprising though because the next hallway is only 6 or 7 feet away.

 

He quickly moves and pokes his head out so he can see down the hallway that leads to the School Administration offices and he sees him opening the door that leads into the reception area.  Okay so that part’s the truth.

 

The bell rings and students start to pour out of the classes and it’s instantly chaos, noise and movement that assaults his senses.  Stiles reaches the administration doors and thankfully they’re glass and he can see in and the Principal is shaking hands with the stranger, smiling at him like he knows him before guiding him into his office. 

 

Stiles can feel a release of tension because somehow he can’t picture a rogue werewolf visiting his high school to have a chat with the Principal.  The odd middle-aged creeper trawling to perv on some teen ass, yeah definitely.  Shakes his head at his own paranoia and starts walking to the front of the school.

 

By the time he gets there he’s already received a text from Derek asking him where he is and to meet him urgently out the front.

 

Scott’s waiting with Derek.  Derek’s face is grim and Stiles can feel his stomach start to churn wildly.

 

“What is it?  What’s happened?  Is everyone okay?”  Derek reaches out and puts his hand heavily on Stiles’ shoulder.

 

“We think we know who the rogue is.. my Uncle Peter he’s missing from the care facility.  Laura and I went to see him today after meeting with your Dad at the morgue and he was gone.”  Derek’s face is a mix of anger and anguish.

 

 _‘I’m sorry.. so sorry..’_   Stiles reaches up and puts his hand over Derek’s where it rests on his shoulder, entwines their fingers.  Derek nods his head.

 

“We found these in one of the bedside drawers in his room.”  He pulls his hand out of his jacket pocket and opens his fist to show a number of dried petals.  Stiles can’t help but notice that Derek’s claws have popped out with his heightened emotions, even as he looks at the petals.

 

“When you first came into my room last night you thought you could smell roses.”  Stiles pokes at the petals with his finger.  They crackle under his touch and he can smell them, it’s so very faint.  So very dry.

 

“On your 16th birthday Stiles I bought 160 red roses and filled your locker with them.  Later on that day you and I took some of them to the care facility, I couldn’t go in because I was in my wolf form, but you told me you didn’t see Peter that you left them with a nurse.”  Derek’s voice sounds rough and harsh and there’s pain transparent on his face.

 

“I think something about them triggered his recovery.  Almost like it gave him the will to heal because he sure as hell wasn’t doing it on his own for the past 6 years.”

 

“Do you think that’s why he’s focused on us?”  Stiles wonders.  Looking back and forth at his pack mates.

 

“But, why me?  Stiles I get because he wants to.. uhh you know.  But, I’m nothing to him..”  Scott’s genuinely bewildered trying to think of the rogues motives.

 

Stiles groans and rubs his face tiredly.

 

“Why?  Because you’re a nice guy Scott.. and I don’t remember this but I’m guessing it went down something like..  all these roses.. oh who’s gonna help me carry all of these pretty flowers to my Jeep.. wait a minute here’s my bestest buddy, Scott.. he’ll help.” 

 

“Yeah we carried them out to your Jeep, but I still don’t see..”  He can see the frown lines appear on Scott’s face, the little furrows just make him look like a little puppy as he tries to understand

 

“If you both handled them, those roses had both of your scents on them.. mix them up with the perfume from the flowers and he couldn’t separate them totally.. so the night in the woods he got his opportunity but, he couldn’t discern mate from potential Beta and Scott you got bitten and Stiles got mind fucked.”  Derek growls in frustration and guilt.

 

“It’s my fault, I put those stupid flowers in your locker.”  Stiles slaps his hands on Derek’s chest and pushes, annoyance and frustration driving him to physically attack an Alpha werewolf.  Of course said 200 pounds of well-muscled werewolf does not move an inch and his eyes flash red and gold in warning at his mate.

 

“Don’t you fucking dare blame yourself for this.”  Stiles growls out heatedly.  He looks away surprised at how volatile he feels, almost out of control. 

 

“160 roses in my school locker from you Derek.. that’s a big deal to me and I fucking hate Peter because he took that memory away from me.”  He pants furiously, so much has been stolen from him when it comes to Derek and it hurts when he hears about these wonderful things that Derek did for him and he can’t remember.

 

 _‘I’m sorry..’_   Those two little words and the feel of a warm hand wrapping around his own has him looking at Derek in a calmer manner.   Stiles tilts his head and mouths ‘no, I'm sorry’ to his mate.  The large hand that surrounds his squeezes gently in understanding.

 

“Your Dad’s going to put out an APB on him, specifically do not approach and hopefully we’ll be able to track him down.”  He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a photo, slightly creased but contained in a plastic protective sleeve. 

 

“In case he’s not caught in his wolf form you need to know who you’re looking out for.”  He holds the photo out to Stiles and Scott huddles into his side so he can see as well.  Derek growls at Scott who jumps back and keeps his distance while Stiles holds it out so they can all see. 

 

Stiles doesn’t bother telling Derek off for his wolfy manners because his mate’s obviously under a lot of pressure and Scott’s tough and he needs to know the pecking order of a wolf pack because if they get other members.. well he just needs to understand the dynamics better.

 

The photo is of a family grouping and Stiles can easily pick out Derek and Laura, younger.. much younger and so happy it’s physically painful to see.  Judging by their ages Derek looks about 15 or 16 and Laura about 18 or 19.  This must’ve been just before the fire. 

 

He doesn’t know why it hurts so much to see these unfamiliar faces and know that these people who he’s never met were taken away by a madwoman.  Then he sees the way Derek’s fingers hover near the photo where it rests in Stiles’ palm, prepared to snatch it away if need be, as if it’s infinitely precious and that if anything were to happen to it.. and that’s why it hurts, because it hurts **_him_**.

 

Then he sees intense blue eyes looking back at him and the photo doesn’t do them justice by half.. in real life they are a richer blue and they sparkle when amused.  He points at the laughing man in the photo and looks up at Derek who is frowning.

 

“Derek.. Derek I just spoke to him not more than ten minutes ago.  He’s in the school right now, in the fucking Principal’s office.”  Stiles is shaking and he reaches out an unsteady hand and grabs the front of Derek’s leather jacket in a tight fist.. trying to hang on.  Derek growls enraged and pulls Stiles in close and starts to scent him, running his hands over his body as though trying to find any injury or hurt that he’d not discerned before.

 

“Did he hurt you?”  Derek’s barely able to speak around the mouthful of fangs that have emerged.  Thankfully, they seem to be the last ones here so there are no witnesses to him wolfing out, as per usual the rest of the student population have left as quickly as they can.

 

“No.. no.. he asked for directions.”  Stiles meets Derek’s eyes and he can see the guilt that burns within them.  “Don’t.. you didn’t know.”

 

“Did he say anything else to you?”  Derek grabs his upper arms and holds him trying to get him to focus.

 

“No.. not really.. I dropped my book.. he picked it up and apologised for scaring me.. practically had me bailed up against my locker..”  Derek growls low and dangerous. 

 

“Then he looked at my history book and said something strange.. uhm kinda like ‘those that don’t know their history are destined to repeat it’ then he said ‘I know my history’.  I don’t have a clue what he meant by that but he left and I followed him to.. woah woah Derek.. whatcha doing there?”

 

Derek fists the fabric of his t-shirt under his chin and hauls him in close, practically nose to nose as he roars furiously, before pressing his face into Stiles’ neck. 

 

“You followed him..”  He nips sharply at his neck in rebuke.  Stiles trembles at the feel of Derek’s fangs against his throat but it’s so not from fear.. so far from fear it’s way, way, way at the other end of the spectrum almost at the pink fluffy unicorns dancing on rainbows zone. 

 

“Don’t you ever do something so reckless again..”  He growls in disapproval, sounding like he’s swallowed gravel, and Stiles can feel that Derek’s trembling too.  The look in his eyes though is telling him that it isn’t for the same reasons.. they look wild and fearful and Stiles can feel something turnover in the pit of his stomach.  Derek was afraid for him.

 

“Call Laura and let her know what’s happening and you both go to Stiles’ house right now.”  He starts to move away and Stiles stops him.

 

“I don’t have Laura’s number.”

 

“Give me your phone and take mine.  Let her know she can reach me on yours.  Okay.  Now go.”  His voice is hard but the hand that reaches up and briefly strokes his cheek is gentle before he runs up the steps to the main entrance.

 

_‘Be careful.. ‘coz if you get hurt I’m.. I’m gonna punch you in the throat..’_

_‘I love you too..’_

 

Stiles wants to follow him so bad that it’s a physical ache to stop himself running after him.  Knows that he’s a distraction that Derek can’t afford to have, not against a wolf that’s so strong.  He looks at Scott who’s showing his golden wolf eyes and knows he has to get Scott out of there as well.  Peter Hale wants them both.

 

On the way to the Jeep he calls Laura who bites out a curse so loudly when he explains that he has to pull the phone away from his ear.

 

“Fuck.. when your Mom stopped being our Emissary, I heard Peter and my Mom arguing because she forbade him from having contact with her, Peter thought Claudia was his mate.. my Mom she wouldn’t have done that if they really were.. He must think that if he can’t have your Mom..”  She stops, the noises that are coming through the phone are not recognisable as human.. they are purely wolf.  A very pissed off one.

 

“Then he can have her son.”  Stiles finishes angrily.

 

“Get home you two.  Now.”  The growls that come out of the tiny speaker make Stiles hair stand on end and Scott whines softly and bears his throat to of all things an apple iphone.  If it wasn’t all so deadly serious Stiles would laugh.

 

“Why do you have a shovel in the back?”  Scott tosses their backpacks into the cargo area.  Stiles shrugs offhandedly, he still doesn’t know that himself.

 

“Where are the bodies buried Stiles?”  He smirks and Stiles knows it’s because he’s trying to distract him.. take his mind off the fact that Derek could be walking into danger right now.  But, really that’s a bit lame even for Scott.. where are the bodies buried and.. holy shit.. just like that it comes to him like a fucking epiphany, where is the choir of angels singing a chorus of hallelujahs because he knows.  He so fucking knows.

 

He starts the Jeep and pulls out of the school’s parking lot so fast and so crazily that his tyres screech and Scott’s yelling at him to slow down as they bounce across the lanes and head down the main road.

 

“Stiles.. where the hell are we going?  This isn’t the way to your house.”  Scott’s eyes are wide and his grip on the door handle looks so tight Stiles wonders if it will snap off with werewolfy terror.

 

“I know.  Have you ever been on a treasure hunt Scottie?”  Stiles feels wildly elated, there’s no way that Peter’s gonna keep him down.. steal his memories.. fuck that.

 

“What the hell?”  The other boy looks at him in wide-eyed confusion, like he’s lost his marbles and maybe he has,  Stiles cackles in sheer glee.

 

“We’re going to dig for buried treasure.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What the hell's happened? Stiles awakens from unconsciousness in the cemetery. He desperately tries to recall what on earth has happened to himself, to Scott and how he's ended up with a werewolf chest as a pillow. Will he remember in time to save himself and his best friend?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to dedicate this chapter to tylrhoechlns - thanks T for being so patient and understanding even though I know you've been waiting for me to get my act together.
> 
> My apologies to all who have been waiting for a new chapter in this and for 'The healing touch'. For some reason the fates have decided to give me an ass-kicking in real life with the start of 2014 - ill health, death in the family and work issues to name a few. It just all left me not in a very good mind-space and I had to step away from this one in particular or I think I would've ruined it and I couldn't bear that not after all we've been through together. Thank you all for your patience.
> 
> So here goes.. the next chapter and where it leads I might add is something that's been in my head since the beginning - so if you don't like it, apologies, but just know it's not gratuitous or something I've just chucked in for the hell of it.
> 
> I've also made mention of William Burke and William Hare, the bodysnatchers/resurrectionists who sold bodies to medical professionals for anatomy practice in Scotland in the 1800's. They decided not to wait for the person to die on their own and gave them a helping murderous hand - just a little tidbit of information that I think Stiles would know about.
> 
> Unbeta'ed - as per usual
> 
> PS. just a gentle reminder that in this verse Peter hasn't done the unforgivable of taking the life of his niece - there is no black and white we all have shades of grey and Peter is definitely a prime example of that here.

Stiles regains consciousness and his head hurts.  It hurts so fucking much, can’t open his eyes afraid that his brain might start leaking out of his ears it’s that bad.  He turns and presses his face into the warm cotton beneath his head and realises Derek’s holding him tight.  The forest scent of him is comforting.  What the..?  What the hell happened?

 

Fingers card through his hair in a soothing rhythm, over and over, and it’s so good even through the pain, he sighs.  Feels a responding sigh in the broad chest beneath his ear and holds on tight.  Shivering, Stiles burrows in closer, they must be lying on the ground, the earth beneath him is cold and it seeps into his flesh to chill his bones.  Derek is warm though.  His radiant heat draws him in closer and closer so he’s wrapped around his mate trying to leech the warmth right out of him.

 

He can remember driving.. driving with Scott in the Jeep.. where’s Scott now? 

 

“Scott..”  He calls out in a shaky broken voice and his head thumps in agony.  His mouth is so very dry and his throat feels raspy, feels like shards of glass are strumming over his vocal chords.  He hurts.

 

“Sssshhhhh.”  Derek hushes him, stroking his cheek and down to his neck so gently he can only sigh again as he does it over and over.  It leaves his nerve endings tingling.

 

Stiles feels sluggish, he can’t concentrate and Derek’s rumbling underneath his ear.  The vibration is soothing.  He can feel lips press against his hair and he relaxes and lets go.

 

****

**_“A cemetery Stiles.. are you out of your mind?”  Scott’s looking at him like he’s just confessed his undying man love for Jackson Whittemore or something._ **

****

**_Stiles ignores him as he pulls over.  This is as close as he can get to his Mom’s grave in the Jeep within the cemetery grounds._ **

****

**_“I’m not digging anybody up.”  Scott says mutinously.  His lower lip caught up between his teeth._ **

****

**_“I’m not asking you to.  I’m no Burke and you’re no Hare.”_ **

****

**_“What?  Are you calling me a rabbit, Stiles?”  Stiles debates whether to go into detail about the resurrectionists William Burke and William Hare, but looking into Scott’s bewildered face he just shrugs instead, it would take way too long and they don’t’ have the time._ **

****

**_“Derek and Laura are gonna kill us.”  Worry pulls Scott’s normally smiling mouth into a funny shape, one that Stiles doesn’t recognise on his face.  The other teen’s frowning.  So that’s what it looks like on his seemingly permanently happy friend.  He sorta feels guilty for putting that look there._ **

****

**_Switching off the engine he sits back and looks at his best friend.  Scott’s eyes are wolf gold with his anxiety and admittedly Stiles had hurried to get to the cemetery.. maybe not sticking strictly to the speed limit or sometimes the right side of the road._ **

****

**_But, they made it right?  In one piece.. oh except for the ‘Jesus bar’ from the front dash.  That’s sitting on the floor where Scott had dropped it after snapping it off while screaming “I’m too young to die..”.  Really, it was only a little truck and even if they had hit it head on.. Stiles didn’t think Scott really had anything to worry about, werewolf healing you know.  If anyone should’ve been screaming, it’s Team Human sitting here.. all too mortal and.. and squishy._ **

****

**_“Stiles..”  Scott begins, his face softening.  Stiles opens his door and swings around to slide out, doesn’t look at his brother, but pauses before his feet touch the ground._ **

****

**_“Are you coming?”  Unspoken are the words ‘with me’ that he wants to desperately tack onto the end of that question.  Are you with me Scott?  With me no matter what we find?  With me even if our pack mates are furious at us?_ **

****

**_The silence is deafening and Stiles can feel his heart squeeze tight in his chest and slams the door behind him, unseeing.  He pinches the bridge of his nose, between his eyes.  No lie it hurts.  But, what did he expect, the last time he dragged his best friend into something.. he was terrorized, attacked and turned into a werewolf.  Stiles sucks.  He’s a sucky friend and a sucky brother and.._ **

****

**_The bump against his shoulder has him reeling away, hands up ready to defend himself when he sees Scott standing beside him holding the shovel._ **

****

**_“If we’re looking for buried treasure I think we might need this.”  Scott swings the shovel up so suddenly that Stiles has to duck out the way as he props it up on his shoulder._ **

****

**_Something like relief washes over Stiles and he can only stare at his friend in gratitude._ **

****

**_“Thanks man..”  His voice sounds harsh and rough even to his ears._ **

****

**_“Yeah.. couldn’t let you forget this important piece of equipment.”  Stiles nods his head as Scott gives him that goofy smile.. the one that lets him know that they are good._ **

****

**_He watches Scott as he looks around.  The shorter days mean that the shadows cast by the headstones and the scattering of trees around the grounds are long and dark.  It’s downright spooky.  Stiles can see the moment when Scott recognises exactly where they are.  Big doe-like eyes widen and turn to him, the wolf gold having receded a while ago, the whites are stark around the warm brown._ **

****

**_“Stiles.. Is this.. your Mom?”  Scott puts out his hand and grips his shoulder tight.  Stiles knows that it’s not to restrain or confine, but to support if need be.. to hold him up if it comes down to it.  Stiles nods his head and now that he’s here, that bravado.. that cockiness that had sustained him on the drive over seems to evaporate when he’s faced once again with the loss of his Mom.  Every.. single.. fucking.. time.. it feels like a fresh wound._ **

****

**_“I had a dream.”  Stiles begins, watching his pack mate for any signs of disbelief or doubt.  Relieved that he only sees curiosity in Scott’s eyes.  “There’s only one person.. one place I would entrust with my most precious things.”_ **

****

**_Scott squeezes his arm gently before releasing him.  He looks around the cemetery and Stiles can see him breathing deeply as though he’s scenting something, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.  He's pleased to see Scott’s really taking to his werewolf abilities._ **

****

**_“What is it?”  He watches worriedly as Scott looks around them once more, a puzzled look on his face.  Scott shakes his head and lets out a chuff of annoyance.  It sounds so much like Derek that Stiles’ lips quirk uncontrollably.   Maybe it’s a werewolf thing._ **

****

**_“Nothing.. let’s go and see your Mom.”_ **

 

 

“Stiles.. sweetheart.. open your eyes for me..”  The rumbling voice makes him wince as the sound pokes at a place somewhere above his left eyebrow.  Reaching up, Stiles runs unsteady fingers over his forehead and.. fucking hell.. that hurts.. oh it really, really hurts.  The lump is hard and aching, even with a light touch he can feel nausea well up within him and turns his head retching.. but doesn’t want to do it all over Derek.

 

“Can’t.. hurts..”  He slurs the words and hears a funny ‘tsk tsk’ sound from above him.  Seriously.  Derek sounds like his 2nd grade teacher, Mrs Green, who used to make that noise whenever Stiles put his hand up to ask a question.  That he would often end up with pins and needles in his fingers by the end of the day, because his constantly raised arm stopped the blood from flowing to his extremities is neither here nor there.  But he’s a little bit disappointed, a little bit hurt.  Derek’s never sounded.. impatient with him before. 

 

“I would appreciate it if you didn’t throw up on me.”  Derek rumbles as his firm fingers rest gently on the lump and Stiles can feel that familiar drawing sensation and knows that Derek’s pulling the pain out of him.  A sigh of relief escapes him as he immediately starts to feel the pain subside.

 

“Uh huh.. thank you..”  Stiles moans, his fingers clutching Derek’s shirt tighter.  Feeling the hard muscular body beneath his cheek.. he inhales deeply drawing in his mate’s scent.. the forest.. the damp earth.. it rushes over him and there’s something else.. a spicy undertone, something exotic.  It’s different from what he remembers, where is the wild tang that he’s used to?  This is decadently civilised, not the untamed earthy scent he recalls.  He tries to place that scent and he breathes it in again.  Sandalwood.

 

“You know this is your own fault don’t you?”  Stiles instinctively stiffens.  His whole body on alert.  That voice.. that almost too polite, mocking voice no longer disguised by the growling rumbles that had vibrated through his chest is not the one he thought it was, even though it is familiar.

 

Oh shit.

 

“Stiles.. you shouldn’t have tried to run.  Not from me.”

 

 

**_Disappointment wells within him when he looks down at his Mom’s grave.  It looks perfect.  Untouched.  The grass is a brilliant green and level after being recently cut.  The flowers at the base of the headstone aren’t exactly fresh but they’re not dead brown stalks either.  It’s not that he wants her resting place to be desecrated or anything like that, but he’d been so sure.  So sure that his Mom was keeping his things safe for him._ **

****

**_“Sorry Stiles.”  Scott looks down at Claudia Stilinski’s grave and walks to the headstone and places his hand on top of it.  After a long moment Stiles hears him choke out “Thank you”.  Scott’s had one hell of a week Stiles realises, with all the revelations that have cropped up and bitch slapped him in the face it’s a wonder the guy’s still smiling at all._ **

****

**_Scrubbing his hands over his eyes Stiles finds them drawn to the flowers.  It’s not just one bunch, he realises, it’s a few bundled together and they are a mixture of different species.. roses, daisies, tulips.  Not his Mom’s favourite irises.. and they never put anything else on her grave._ **

****

**_Kneeling by her gravestone.  Stiles reaches out, excitement rising within him.. before hesitating._ **

****

**_“Mom.. I would really appreciate it.. if there are no ‘Carrie’ or ‘Supernatural’ moments here.”  He says out loud.  The thought of a hand bursting out of the grave and grabbing his makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.  Releasing a long breath, Stiles quickly brushes the bunches of flowers away to expose the earth directly in front of the headstone._ **

****

**_There it is.  A section of grass has been neatly cut, presumably down to the rich earth beneath it._ **

****

**_“Stiles.”  Scott crouches down on the opposite side.  “You were right.”_ **

****

**_“Yeah.”  He whispers back.  “Go figure.”  Stiles grabs one side of the grass section and Scott the other.  Gently lifting it out in one piece they can see rich dark earth.  Stiles picks up the shovel and starts to dig carefully.  He only has to go a few feet down and he hears a tap against the blade of the shovel.  He drops it and crouches back down over the hole._ **

****

**_Using his hand he brushes away the dirt to reveal a black cardboard box, slightly bigger than a shoe box.  When he reaches into the hole and picks it up.. jeez it’s heavy too, what the hell does he have in there..  he discovers its been wrapped over and over with plastic cling wrap._ **

****

**_Slowly he nods to himself, even when he’s been out of his head he obviously wanted to protect the box and its contents from the elements._ **

****

**_“Can we get out of here now?”  Scott asks as he looks around again.   His nervousness feeds into Stiles, there’s a prickling sensation running up and down the length of his spine as he sees how much lower the sun sits in the sky.  They’ve been out here for a while.  He starts to feel bad at the thought of his pack mates wondering where on earth they’d gotten to and pats his hoodie pocket for his phone, curses when he remembers he slipped Derek’s into his backpack after talking to Laura which is still in the Jeep.  Hopefully, finding his treasure box will distract them from some of the flack he feels sure is going to come raining down upon them._ **

****

**_“Uh yeah..”  Stiles agrees.  They scoop up as much dirt as they can, dumping it back into the hole and put the turf back into place where it sinks now that the box has been removed.  Stiles gathers the flowers back and piles them over the depression in the ground, hiding it from sight.  It all looks relatively normal.  He doesn’t think his Mom will mind the different flowers.. not for a good cause.  He kisses two fingers and touches them to her name on the headstone.  “Thanks Mom.”_ **

****

**_“That is so very sweet.”  The voice comes from behind them and simultaneously Stiles and Scott turn their heads to see Peter standing directly behind them.  One hand rests on the handle of the shovel as he rocks it back and forth, the blade gouging into the grass, watching them intently._ **

****

**_“We didn’t get a chance to speak properly at the school Stiles.. and we have so much to talk about.”  He says silkily, his eyes flare red as he looks between them.  “My boys.. my pack.”_ **

****

**_Stiles puts the box down and slowly stands up, can see that Scott does the same.  Scott’s eyes are golden and gleam brightly in the gathering dusk.  Oh shit.. Stiles recognises that look after all these years.. it means Scott’s going to do something stupid.  The quick glance that Scott gives him confirms it.  Yep.. definitely something stupid and because they’re bro’s he’s going to go along with it which makes him just as stupid.  Great._ **

****

**_With a sudden movement Scott pushes at Stiles, right in the centre of his chest, at the same time that he leaps towards the older man._ **

****

**_“Run Stiles..”  He calls over his shoulder before running straight into the path of the suddenly upturned shovel that Peter wields with an expertise that makes Stiles feel like he’s in a Jackie Chan movie with the way he’s twirling it in his hands.  The blade hits Scott squarely in the face once.. twice and Stiles winces as he hears the bones crack in Scott’s nose.  His newbie werewolf friend reels back and howls in pain as he lifts his hands to his face trying to stem the flow of blood pouring out and Stiles can’t help himself, instead of running he moves towards his best friend wanting to help._ **

****

**_“Scott..”  Peter’s voice is compelling.  There’s a note to it, a resonance that echoes deep into Stiles’ primal brain, he recognises the power of an Alpha even though it doesn’t affect him, he can see, however, that Scott is rigid.. frozen at the sound._ **

****

**_“Down.”  Peter points to the ground and Stiles can feel the power that’s directed at Scott through their bonds of brotherhood.  It’s an intense overwhelming pressure that drops the younger wolf to his knees and he curls in on himself, whimpering softly.  Scott tries to struggle, groaning as he lifts his head up through sheer force of will.  How he does it Stiles has no idea.._ **

****

**_“Stop it.”  Stiles rasps.  Goes to move against the older man who turns and looks at him and wags one finger at him in reproach._ **

****

**_“Now.. now.. enough of that.  Behave yourself or Scott may just pay the price for your.. disobedience.”  He looks down at the boy hunched over on the grass.  “I could break his back if I really wanted to..”_ **

****

**_Stiles can feel the weight, the pressure of Peter’s control grow heavier until Scott bows down completely.  His forehead touching the grass, his fingers gouge into the turf and his golden eyes flash at the Alpha with both hatred and fear._ **

****

**_Peter drops the shovel and moves to his Beta’s side.  Crouching down beside him, he runs his fingers over and through Scott’s dark hair.  It’s strangely gentle, almost affectionate._ **

****

**_“It’s alright Scott.  I’m not going to hurt him or you.  Be a good Beta and stay right there.”  He lifts his head towards Stiles and draws in a deep breath.  Blue eyes open wide and he looks momentarily puzzled before seeming to shake it off._ **

****

**_“Stiles..”_ **

****

**_The way he says his name in such silky tones, the heated look in his eyes.. the predator has come out to play and the games it wants to play are only suitable with its mate.  Stiles shivers as Peter stands and holds his hand out to him._ **

****

**_“Come here Stiles.”  Stiles shakes his head, no.   Peter looks at him thoughtfully for one moment, before a teeth-baring grin slides over his handsome face.  “No.. that’s alright.. I’ll come to you.”_ **

****

**_The threat, because how else can he take it, drives him to turn and flee.  Unfortunately, his foot catches the treasure box behind him and Stiles can almost see it happening in slow motion as he trips, flailing desperately and falls face first into his Mom’s headstone.  A shooting pain rockets through his forehead right above his left eyebrow and though he struggles to fight off the darkness that wants to blanket him and smother him, he sucuumbs._ **

****

****

“Stiles.. you shouldn’t have tried to run.  Not from me.”  Peter nuzzles into his hair and ear.  The smooth tone of his voice is pure seduction and it’s aimed right at him.  Shit.. shit.. shit…

 

Through slitted eyes Stiles is able to see that darkness has fallen.  God, how long has he been out of it, he wonders.  Derek and Laura will be frantic by now and his Dad.. well he’s not too sure how his Dad would be feeling.  His chest feels tight and achy when he thinks about him and he has to push thoughts of his Dad away because right now considering whose chest he’s currently using as a pillow.. he seriously needs to have all his focus on the werewolf who wants to make him his bitch.

 

“Right.. tell that to my virtue.. like it wasn’t under threat.”  Stiles grounds out.  Whimpers as the chest under his head moves up and down jerkily making his head ache, his eyes widening as he realises that Peter’s actually laughing at him.  He moans faintly.  His eyes feel extremely sensitive and it’s a relief almost, that it’s dark.. if it had been daylight he suspects he would’ve been more crippled and at a disadvantage than what he already is.

 

“No I can’t.”  Peter agrees.  “And I wouldn’t use past tenses if I were you.  The night’s still young.”

 

“Ughh.. creeper wolf.. just try it and I swear I **_will_** throw up on you..”  Stiles’ focus is gradually returning to normal.. it doesn’t feel like his vision is zooming in and out anymore.  He can see the carved out letters that form his Mom’s name on the headstone.  There’s a big smear of fresh blood smack bang in the centre of the stone, with rivulets running down towards the ground.

 

Stiles takes shallow breaths trying to quell the nausea he feels every time his head moves.  Peter seems content for the moment to let him just rest.  He remembers the photo Derek had shown him of his family.. his ridiculously good-looking family and the Peter that’s in the photo then, the laughing happy man surrounded by his loved ones.  Surely that man is still within him, somewhere deep down.. way way deep down.   He can’t have been completely burnt out by the flames that destroyed the rest of his family.. his pack.  Can he?

 

“I’m not your mate.. you know that right?”  Stiles says quietly.

 

“You could be.”  Peter isn’t laughing anymore.  “Stiles.. there’s something there between us I can feel it.. I can scent it.. I lost your Mom when she met your Dad..  if you had a second chance wouldn’t you try with everything you had to hang on to it.. to keep it.”

 

Stiles shakes his head in denial.

 

“This isn’t the way.  You know it.. you knew it when you took my memories and yet you left me my Mom.. you knew it was wrong.  That I’m not the mate for you.”

 

“When I’d been burned so badly.. when simply breathing was..”  He pauses and Stiles can feel the older man’s body go taut with tension from remembered pain. 

 

“When breathing was an unrelenting agony of blistered airways and scorched lungs, my niece and nephew visited me at the specialist Burns Unit.  They were talking in my room not knowing I could hear them.. talking about you and Claudia.. how she was dying.”  He shifts, easily moving Stiles so that they are kneeling on the cool grass, facing each other. 

 

Stiles can feel his head roll almost unnaturally on his neck.  It feels abnormally heavy.  Out of the corner of his eye he can see Scott curled up into a tight little ball.  Not dead.. thank Christ.. he can see his chest moving.  Asleep or unconscious.  Whatever it is, it’s not natural.  He wonders, did Peter 'compel' Scott to sleep with his Alpha power?

 

“There didn’t seem to be any point in trying anymore.”  His blue eyes are deep pools and Stiles can feel himself falling forward as they seem to draw him in.  “Not until a nurse brought some roses into my room a few months ago and I could scent my mate on them.”

 

His hands grip Stiles’ upper arms tight.  Too tight.  Holding him in place.  “Then I tried.. I tried as hard as I could to heal.. for you Stiles.. for you.  Drew on the power of the moon.  But, I was greedy and desperate.  It was too much.. too fast, I became moonstruck.. I was dangerous.  I would’ve tried to kill you too Stiles if I’d found you.  As it was I found a strange Alpha on Hale territory…  he didn’t stand a chance.”

 

“They said they were lucky to be alive.”  Peter’s hands let him go so suddenly that Stiles topples forward his hands on Peter’s hard chest the only thing stopping him from face planting against him.

 

“Derek and Laura.  I didn’t recognise them.. not at first and even when I did I still wanted to tear them apart.  Scatter them into pieces.  It took everything I had to let them go.”  Peter says softly before he turns his head away and looks across the cemetery.  Stiles drops his hands to the grass feels each cool blade of green tickle his palms and tries to shimmy back slightly, away from the werewolf and freezes when Peter swings back to look at him with those red burning eyes that mark him as Alpha.

 

“Both Alpha’s now.. Interesting.  How did that happen I wonder?”  The speculative look that Peter gives him makes Stiles shift uneasily on his knees.   He can’t meet those hungry eyes, doesn’t know if Peter wants him for his power or.. or **_wants_** him.  His eyes are drawn back to the headstone, Stiles can see the trickle of blood has run down steadily and has nearly reached the blades of grass.

 

“My Mom would kill you if she knew what you were doing to me.”  He puts all the loathing and disgust that he’s feeling into his voice.  It sounds ugly.. feels worse.  Peter looks at him for a long time.. unmoving.

 

“Your Mom was one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever known.. she wouldn’t want me to be alone like this.  To not have a mate.. to not have a pack or family.  You’re a gift Stiles.. from my mate to me so I have someone..”

 

“I’m not a gift and my Mom was never your mate.. your sister, your Alpha didn’t think so.  She told you to keep away.”  Stiles’ fear is slowly changing to anger.  Anger over everything that this man has done to him.. all the pain, all the grief just so he’s not lonely.

 

Fury ripples over Peter’s face as he says through clenched teeth.  “My sister wasn’t always right.  She may have been Alpha.. but she wasn’t right about this.  I know I didn’t recognise Claudia to start with when she was to become our Emissary.. when she was going to leave us though.. it was like I had this clarity, I could truly scent her and she was leaving us.. leaving me to be with your father and I knew I couldn’t let her go.  Talia forbade me to see her, to see either of them.. as my Alpha I was compelled to obey her..”

 

“Do you know what that’s like.. being forced to submit when every instinct in you is screaming ‘no’?”  He grinds out.

 

“Yes.. I just saw you do that to Scott.  You used your will to try and break him.”  Stiles spits out.  Hands clenching tight into fists.

 

Peter looks momentarily taken aback.  “No.. I.. he’s my Beta.”  As if that says it all.  As if that excuses it.

 

“You know that Derek’s my mate.”  Stiles says firmly.  Peter starts to laugh and it’s a bitter, edgy sound, that makes Stiles’ stomach twist into knots of fear and he tries to draw further away still, but Peter’s eyes lock onto him with laser-like focus like he’s trying to reel him in.  A fish on a hook.

 

“A boy.. you need someone with experience.. maturity.”  Peter moves onto all fours, leaning closer, the sinuous movement is a seduction in itself.. his voice is low and enticing. “Someone who can help you with all that power that’s.. simmering inside you.”

 

“He doesn’t need you to help with that.”  Out of the darkness the familiar beloved voice growls and Stiles scrambles back, crablike on hands and feet, to get out of reach of Peter and his claws.  He doesn’t need to be used as a hostage against his mate.  A dark shape comes out of nowhere, moving so fast he doesn’t even see him properly before he crashes into Peter’s side and deflects him away from Stiles.

 

Peter transforms almost instantly into a.. a wolfman, even as he skids along the grass.  It’s the closest thing that Stiles can compare him to and yet it’s so much more than anything he’s ever seen in the movies.  He grows, he changes.. becoming a huge beast in comparison with the human frame he normally has. 

 

Peter’s face is no longer urbane and handsome, it’s stretched with a stumpy muzzle, fangs bared and dripping.  His features are pinched and distorted, the skin looking like the black leather of his now torn jacket.  Long dark fur covers him and his arms.. somehow they’re longer than what they should be, it looks.. wrong.   It is wrong. 

 

Large claws with razor sharp nails glint in the moonlight as he slashes at himself trying to free himself from the confinement of his nearly destroyed clothes.  Stiles looks up at the sky.  It’s not a full moon, that isn’t until tomorrow night, but will it give either of the two Hale wolves, who are slavering and growling at each other in front of him right now, an advantage?

 

The clash of bodies echoes across the cemetery and Stiles cries out in fear when he sees the slashing claws of Peter’s wolfman come within inches of Derek’s throat.  Stiles’ wolf has grown in size as well, yet there is still something essentially human about him, not monstrous like Peter is. 

 

The noise is probably the worst thing about the battle, it’s loud and not just from the howling vocalisations they are making, the snarls, yips and growls.. Stiles can hear skin being torn, bones being broken and he wants to throw up so badly.  But, he can’t.  That’s his mate fighting and he’s going to help however he can. 

 

He doesn’t know how to consciously bring it about.. just knows that it’s been fear and anxiety that’s brought it on previously.  If that’s all that’s needed he has both of those factors going on in spades right now.  The fear that his mate is about to get killed right in front of him fuels the magic.. the power that sits inside him.  He doesn't hold back on any of the fear he feels, doesn't repress it at all.  

 

He can see and feel the sensation of light bursting out of every pore of his skin.  It doesn't hurt him to look at it directly.. it comforts, it soothes him.  It stretches out to the wolves and if he can equate it to anything it’s like his power gives them an almighty flick on the nose for being so annoying and they both revert instantly to their human selves.  Peter and Derek stagger as torn and bloodied, panting in great heaving breaths, they feel him move through them.

 

It somehow feels more powerful than it ever has before and he can see both wolves are looking at him now, shielding their eyes from the radiance that pours out of him sliding across the grass to cast it’s light upon the blood trail that reaches from the centre of the headstone to the base of it where it now pools on the earth.  Stiles feels like he’s going to burst.. like he’s a volcano and the eruption is imminent and that’s when he sees her.  Standing.. bathed in his glow under the moonlight. 

 

“Mom..”  Stiles feels and sounds like he’s ten again. 

 

It’s his Mom.   And just like that his glow recedes, his power pulls back into some place deep within him.  He can feel it sitting there, ready and waiting for use and Stiles knows that he’ll be able to tap into that power now easily, without a second thought as though some ritual has been performed and released it and him.  It’s there for him to wield and command.

 

Claudia Stilinski is standing in front of him.. barefoot in the grass and she’s.. she’s beautiful.  Just like he remembers, before she got sick.  In her favourite dress, the red cap-sleeved one with white swirls along the hem of the full skirt.  Sable hair swirls against her shoulders, long and shining, not short and stubbly from all the medical treatments she’d endured.  His eyes look out of her face at him, golden amber and they shine with unshed tears as her wide mouth smiles tremulously at him. 

 

“Oh beautiful boy.. look at you.. look how grown up you are.”  She holds her hand out to him and Stiles scrambles to his feet and stretches out his own towards her..

 

“Stiles no..”  Derek moves as if to stop him and Claudia turns to him.  His mate’s returned to his gorgeous beloved human self and the expression he wears is full of worry and fear as they flick towards him. 

 

“Derek.. oh sweetheart don’t worry.  It really is me, you know it don’t you?”  Derek looks at her for a long moment, draws in a breath before slowly shaking his head, yes.

 

“I know you’ve done your best.  You’ve looked after him so well, loved him so well.  Thank you.”   She tilts her head to one side as if listening to something. 

 

“Your Mom says that you’ve not been eating as well as you should, ‘wolves don’t get big and strong and become Alpha’s unless they eat all their broccoli’.”  His Mom frowns.  “Really Talia.. that’s the message you want me to give him? He's an Alpha already I don't think broccoli is going to help anymore.  Alright, alright.. okay I said.. I’ve told him.. yes yes he knows it’s from you.  You do, don’t you Derek?”

 

Even as he nods in agreement, the noise that comes out of Derek is one of such pain that Stiles wants to go to him and hold him close, but he’s afraid that if he even moves an inch his Mom’s going to disappear.

 

“Peter.”  His Mom turns to the older wolf who is seemingly frozen in place, her voice severe.  “What are you trying to do with my son?  You know he’s not your mate.. just like I wasn’t.”

 

Peter swallows hard.  “Claudia.. how can you say that?  I know what I can sense.. it’s there.. that scent.  Both you and Stiles have it.”  He looks down at the ground.  “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”

 

“Oh Peter.. you foolish, foolish wolf.”  His Mom steps towards the older wolf and he stiffens, bracing himself for her attack.  She leans in and kisses his cheek.  Startled Peter lifts his hand to his cheek looking at her in bemusement.

 

“I felt that.  How can it be?  I felt it. You're real.”  Peter looks back and forth between he and his Mom.  Calculation flickers across his face swiftly replaced with a bland smirk when he realises that they are both watching him.

 

“Peter if you behave yourself, be patient and tamp down those impulses that have gotten you into so much trouble before..”  Claudia nods her head.  “Yes Talia’s told me a few things.. if you can do that then you can have the mate, the family and the pack you want.  Most of all be patient.. your mate isn’t ready to accept you just yet.  Give them time.  Okay.”

 

At the word mate, Peter’s eyes begin to glow Alpha red and his lips part as though he’s about to say something before thinking better of it at the hard look his Mom gives him.

 

As she turns to Derek she looks back at Peter thoughtfully and with one clenched fist punches him so hard in the jaw Stiles can see him lift momentarily off his feet before he crumples back to the ground.

 

“And if you try anything else with my son, you will be one sorry wolf, Peter Hale.  I’ll haunt you for the rest of your days.”  She stands over him practically snarling, as vicious as any wolf, as he lays sprawled partially naked over her grave, shaking his head and rubbing his jaw with one hand.  “Just remember that if you think you can play your usual games with my family.”

 

Claudia gathers Derek into her arms and whispers into his ear and Stiles can feel his chest ache when he sees his wolf lower his head onto her shoulder and bury his face into her neck.. his shoulders heave violently up and down.  She holds on for the longest time and Stiles can’t help but feel jealous.. she’s **_his_** Mom.  Then a wave of incredible guilt sweeps over him when he thinks about Derek losing his Mom.. what wouldn’t Derek give to have **_her_** here instead. 

 

Releasing his mate, his Mom crouches by the still unconscious Scott and brushes strands of hair from his forehead in a gentle loving touch.

 

Stiles can’t stand it anymore, he shuffles closer to her.

 

“Mom.”  He says tentatively, before she’s sweeping him into an embrace that he never thought he would experience again. 

 

“Listen to me darling, I don’t have much time.. I’m not allowed to tell you more than this.. something’s coming.  Be on your guard.”  Her face crumples as she presses kisses on his cheeks and forehead and Stiles can feel wet dripping off his chin.  Oh.. he’s been crying and hadn’t even realised it.

 

“I love you and your Dad so very much.. things are going to change for you both and Stiles just know this, it’s time for your Dad to move on with his life now and I’m okay with that.. so if I am, I want you to be okay as well.”  She cups his face in her hands, amber eyes meeting amber.

 

Stiles can only nod his head.  He can’t take his eyes off her.  The way she feels in his arms, the hands that stroke his hair like only his Mom does it. 

 

“I miss you so much Mom.”  The words choke in his throat and he presses his face into her shoulder so hard and so tight trying to hang on and never ever let her go, knowing all the time that she’s going to slip through his fingers.

 

“I know baby.. I miss you too.  I’m always with you sweetheart.  I’m always in here.”  She places her hand on his chest over his crazily beating heart and he can feel the heat of her palm soak through the thin t-shirt material, before slowly she pulls out of his arms and steps back towards the headstone. 

 

“Mom..”  Stiles says helplessly, he can’t bear to see her go.

 

His Mom starts to fade, she’s just like a thin sheet of light with her image on it, like a movie screen.. still moving, waving and blowing kisses to him and he can see a funny spot of light that flickers and moves, dancing within her, distorting her image and then..

 

His Dad holding his torch and gun in both hands bursts through that sheet and it’s like she disintegrates before his very eyes and Stiles can’t help calling out.

 

“NO..”  Grief washes over him and he senses Derek start to move towards him and he needs him.. needs his mate to hold him.

 

“Freeze.. nobody move.”  His Dad keeps his gun trained on Peter and if it drifts towards Derek’s direction as well somehow Stiles isn’t too surprised.  His Dad's face becomes like stone when he flicks a glance at Stiles, his eyes fix on his forehead and the swelling above his brow almost throbs in response.

 

Laura moves up and around his Dad and kneels beside Scott checking on him, her face tight and almost too controlled.  Uh oh.. she’s pissed. 

 

“Dad did you see her?”  If there’s one person who would want to see his Mom more than Stiles it would be his Dad.

 

“See who Stiles?”  And Stiles knows that whatever happened here with his Mom was only witnessed by Peter, Derek and himself.  He looks across at the two wolves.  Derek still looks shattered with whatever his Mom whispered in his ear, his mouth a straight hard line and his eyes, those green pools that Stiles could drown in shimmer in the moonlight. 

 

Peter looks bemused, before looking startled, his nostrils flare wide and in the dim torchlight Stiles can see the rising flush of colour that sweeps over his cheeks.  Peter draws in a deep breath and his eyes turn from human blue to wolf red in an instant and they are focused on his Dad so intently that Stiles fears for him.  Peter looks like he’s going to swallow him whole.. devour him entirely.

 

“Don’t move.”  His Dad focuses all of his attention onto the older wolf who looks like he’s visibly quivering, his restraint shattering.

 

“Mate.. my mate.  I knew you’d come.”  Peter growls out and starts to move towards his Dad.  A low grumbling noise vibrating through his chest.. one that Stiles recognises from his time with Derek and it just blows his mind.  It’s Peter’s wolf letting them all know he needs to be closer to his mate and issuing a warning to not touch either of them. 

 

His mate who happens to be his Dad. 

 

No way.  Yet it all makes such perverse sense that Stiles is left reeling.  No wonder Peter was confused he’s been scenting his Dad on both he and his Mom, residual traces left on them from the simple normal interactions of family members.  Touching and hugging, simply being in the same room together, breathing in the same air.

 

His Dad takes a step back, gun unwavering from the rapidly approaching threat.  Little does he know that it’s not quite the threat he thinks it is.  Yes bodily harm maybe involved, but if Peter’s anything like Derek it will be of the pleasurable kind.  Stiles can feel his face screw up at the thought.. ooh bad touch in the mind or what.  It’s not something he likes to think about in relation to his Dad.. nuh uh.. his Dad is his Dad and a monastic, celibate lifestyle is definitely the only type of sex-life appropriate for his parent.

 

“Don’t come any closer.  I’m warning you.”  Peter is almost upon him when he hears the gunshot making Stiles’ body jump in shock.  Peter’s lying across his Mom’s grave looking up at his Dad.  His eyes no longer red, but wide eyed and brilliantly all too human blue.

 

“Ow..”  Peter presses his hand to the right side of his bare chest where blood is blooming from a smallish black hole. 

 

“You shot me.”  The stunned tone in Peter’s voice makes Stiles want to giggle which he knows is wildly inappropriate for the setting and what’s just happened. 

 

“You shot me.”  Peter says again and that’s it Stiles is laughing out loud, particularly at the bewildered disbelief that he hears in his voice.

 

“I told you not to move.  If you keep on disobeying my instructions I’m going to keep shooting you.. because I know you’re a werewolf and I’ve got a lot of bullets.”   If he were Peter he’d shut up and keep still because the look on his Dad’s face.. it scares Stiles down to the very core of him.  His Dad is prepared to kill tonight, the cold blue stare he flicks towards the wolves, the grooves that mark either side of his mouth send red warning flags up a mile high for Stiles to see.. he really, really hopes that the others can sense it too.

 

“They won’t kill me.”  Peter says arrogantly.  Even sprawled half naked and bleeding he can still raise a haughty eyebrow at his father.

 

“But, it still hurts doesn’t it?”  When nothing comes out of the older wolf his Dad lowers his gun slightly.  “And next time I won’t be aiming at your chest.”

 

Peter winces and quickly lowers his hands to cover his groin, looking at his Dad with a strange mix of fear and fierce approval.

 

Stiles can feel the hysteria that he’s been smothering  for the past hour or so rapidly release and he’s giggling and before he knows it howling because his head still fucking hurts and out of the corner of his eye he can see Derek moving towards him and Stiles stumbles as he tries to take a step towards him, but he’s so off balance.  Then realises it’s because he’s falling.. falling and tumbling into darkness because it feels like his head has simply decided.. enough.

 

“Stiles..”  Derek sounds desperate and he wishes he could open his eyes and tell him how much he loves him.  Doesn’t know whether he’s up or down, on the ground or in someone’s arms.. he just can’t tell. 

 

“Get away from him..”  Dad.. no.. don’t..  Didn’t he read somewhere that when you faint your hearing is the last of your senses to go.  Why damn it… he doesn’t want to hear this.

 

“Please Sheriff Stilinski.. Sir.. just let me..”  Derek’s frantic and he can hear a growling whine underlying his words.

 

“No.. now get away from him.. all of you stay away from him and me.. or I swear to God the next bullet will have ‘Hale’ written on it and frankly.. I don’t care which one of you it hits.”  He’s never heard his Dad sound so cold and unforgiving.. he means it.  Fuck.. he means it.. please Derek don’t get in his Dad’s way.. not tonight.

 

Dear God.. please let this all be a nightmare. 

 

Mercifully his hearing shuts down and with no more senses to torment him he slips almost gratefully into the darkness.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Stiles awakens after the confrontation in the cemetery little does he know that he'll be facing another one in his hospital room with his father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone for taking so long for the latest chapter - I had a personal fic project to complete for another writer and I must confess was agonizing over the confrontation between the Sheriff and Stiles once he regained consciousness. It was just hard to write and much as I would like to make it okay between them all, from the Sheriff's POV as a parent it's going to take a lot for him to get over it at this point in time.
> 
> **NB. THERE IS MENTION OF CHILD SEXUAL ABUSE AND COUNSELLING AND MEDICAL TREATMENT FOR SUCH ABUSE - NOT GRAPHIC BUT IF THIS IS A POSSIBLE TRIGGER PLEASE BE FOREWARNED OR SKIP THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

If his hearing is the last thing to go before unconsciousness, it’s the first thing to return when Stiles awakens.  It’s the soft rhythmic beeps that he’s aware of before he’s struck by the sensation of harsh, stiff sheets made for practical  purposes rather than for comfort against his skin and that scent.. that fucking scent burns into his nose.  It’s a pervasive mix of disinfectant, sickness and human misery which he recognises all too well.  It features prominently in his nightmares.. the ones of his Mom. 

 

Fuck.. he’s in a hospital.

 

With fluttering eyelids Stiles struggles to open his eyes, he can feel how taut the skin on his forehead is where the lump has stretched it.  Looking through narrowed slits he can see that thankfully the room is mostly in darkness, there is a lamp glowing on the bedside table on his left side and on his right he realises he’s hooked into a machine set on a metal trolley via a cord that ends with a clamp on the end of his finger.  Monitoring his pulse rate. 

 

Shifting beneath the sheets Stiles can feel the pull on tired, strained muscles and winces as he tries to sit up from the flat on his back position he’s in.  His head doesn’t feel like it’s gonna explode anymore.  It still throbs in time with his heartbeat, just nowhere near as bad as it did in the cemetery.   

 

Movement out of the corner of his eye makes him snap his head around to look at the figure sitting in the shadowed corner of his dimly lit hospital room, wincing as the jerking motion makes the lump on his head feel like it’s pulsing right out of his skull.  Okay, he’s gonna have to revise that exploding head theory.

 

“Derek..”  He murmurs softly.  The figure sits forward and the soft light from the lamp falls across his face.  Not his wolf.

 

“Dad.”  Pain streaks through Stiles’ guts.  He can see that his Dad looks like he’s aged about 20 years in the space of a few hours.  Harsh lines bracket either side of his thin lipped mouth.  Bags sit bruised and sagging underneath his penetrating blue eyes and his skin tone.. Stiles isn’t sure if it’s from the poor light or whether it’s because of all the shit his Dad’s discovered over the past 24 hours, but he looks grey.  He’s still in his tan Sheriff’s Department uniform and Stiles wonders when was the last time he got any sleep or had a shower or even had a meal.

 

“Stiles.”  He says his name.  One word and it’s neutral.  No hitch.. no intonation.. no emotion.  Stiles thinks that this sounds worse than possibly anything that he could’ve imagined his Dad doing.. he’d been more inclined to think there would be lots of yelling, lots of exasperation on his Dad’s part and lots of explaining on his.  This.. nothing, this emptiness is like a knife being twisted in his gut.

 

“How are you feeling?”  He says in that awful tone.

 

“Better.”  Stiles says automatically before he actually stops and thinks about it.  Mentally runs a quick check over his body and nods his head gingerly, yeah definitely better if he doesn’t move his head around too quickly.

 

“Good.”  His Dad’s hands move on an object in his lap, fingers tapping against its sides.  The black box.  Stiles can barely drag his eyes away from it.  He wants to see inside it so bad.

 

“That’s mine.”  He tries to keep his voice calm even though his insides are jumping around with nerves and anxiety.  He watches as his Dad smooths both hands in opposite directions across the lid before he picks it up, stands and walks to the hospital bed.  Placing the black box onto the mattress he keeps one hand on top of it as he looks down at Stiles.

 

Stiles looks at the box and his eyes widen in dismay and growing anger as he realises that the protective plastic wrap that had covered it has been cut away.

 

“You opened it.”  Stiles pulls himself upright and glares at his Dad.  Pure fury surges throughout his body, the intensity of it shocking him.. the compulsion to tear his Dad apart is so strong.  Without even a hint of guilt or remorse his Dad looks back at him impassively, examining his reactions like he’s interrogating one of the prisoners he holds at the County Lock up.  The fingers resting on top of the lid lift and ripple, one after the other, tapping against the cardboard like it’s a drum.

 

Stiles hisses in anger.. that his Dad’s trying to mind fuck with him like that.. it burns.  Hasn’t he endured enough of that already with Peter.  Blue eyes rake over him and Stiles can feel it to the very core of him.. like he’s been judged and found wanting.

 

“I needed to see what you would risk your life for.”  He leans down and Stiles feels a shiver go down his spine at the severity he sees etched in his Dad’s face.  “What you would risk Scott’s life for.”

 

Stiles sucks in a sharp breath.  It’s a low blow and it stings more from the fact that his Dad’s right.  It’s a brutal truth and he can’t deny that he’d not been thinking in terms of either he or Scott being endangered.. possibly at risk of losing their lives.  His sole focus had been on finding the box.. getting his memories back was a priority, but was proving that he was right, that he was smart enough to figure it out regardless of consequences.. he’s not so sure.

 

Anger and guilt entwine at being exposed as a dick in regards to his best friend and the intrusion into his privacy has him scowling fiercely at the older man.  They regard each other for a long intense moment so he’s surprised when his Dad shifts restlessly on his feet, breaking first.

 

“You could’ve died Stiles.  The Doctor says you were only a hairs breadth from hitting a weak spot in your head.”  His voice hitches and cracks as he lifts a hand that is visibly trembling and it hovers over Stiles’ forehead before he puts it back down on the edge of the bed.  Here is the emotion that he expected to see and now that he is.. he doesn’t want to see the hurt that he’s caused this man he loves so much, doesn’t want to see how he’s pushed his Dad almost to breaking point. 

 

“You were so close to fracturing your skull.. if anything had happened to you Stiles I..”

 

His Dad raises his hand to his face and rubs it wearily over his eyes before dragging it over his open mouth, tugging on his lower lip before it falls away.  He looks like shit and most of it is because of him.  Stiles sighs.  All of it is because of him.

 

“I’m sorry.”  Stiles says.  At his Dad’s questioning look he qualifies.  “For scaring you.”

 

“But not for being reckless or not doing as you were told and to go straight home and not for lying to me over and over all these years.”  His Dad bites out as his blue eyes spark and flash heatedly and the grey cast to his face is swept away as burning red colour floods into his face.

 

Stiles leans back into the pillow.  He's lied too much already, not any more.  “No.” 

 

He watches as his Dad’s hand on top of the box clenches into a white knuckled fist.  He flicks the lid off with one finger and Stiles can’t help himself as he sits forward to see what’s inside.

 

First off he sees a mobile phone and charger.  It looks a bit dated as compared to the ones he sees everyday at school, but it’s pristine, unmarked in any way, no scratches that would indicate regular use so he doesn’t think it’s one he carries everyday.  Underneath he can see a black cap and it’s marked with the words FBI.  Things are piled on top of each other and he can’t see all the contents properly.  Wants to wrench the box away from his Dad and look through on his own and examine each item carefully.

 

“Did you look?”  Stiles asks feeling his heart twist sharply at the thought of his Dad poking through his things.  The things that Derek gave him.  His Dad doesn’t even have the courtesy to lie and any idea that maybe he’d only removed the plastic wrapping was gone.

 

“Yes.  **_He_** knows you very well going by what’s in here.”  The words are sharp and cutting, the emphasis on not saying his mate’s name all too obvious. 

 

Stiles wishes that Derek were here, but he kinda understands why he’s not.  Why he’s giving them.. his Dad some space.  The last memory of Derek and his Dad speaking in the cemetery had made it all too clear that his mate’s life was under serious threat and even though Derek could easily overpower his Dad.. that he hasn’t gone all Alpha on him is testimony to Derek’s understanding of what his Dad means to him.  That he knows hurting his Dad would hurt Stiles too.

 

“Stiles I want you to speak to someone.. a professional counsellor.”  There’s an intensity in his Dad’s voice, a harsh brittleness as though he’s swallowing something bitter and is struggling to not reveal how much it disgusts him.

 

What the..? 

 

“A counsellor.”  He can only repeat numbly watching as his Dad nods slowly his eyes never leaving Stiles’ face.

 

“One who specialises in victims of abuse.”  Stiles can’t move, can’t breathe.  His head feels like it’s spinning wildly out of control as he finally gets what his Dad is trying to say.  “It’s okay if you can’t talk to me about it.. but, I just want you to know I’m here and I.. whenever you’re ready Stiles I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

 

His head thumps back heavily against the pillow and Stiles blinks his eyes rapidly staring at the square panels that make up the ceiling.  Christ.. when will this nightmare ever end Stiles wonders.

 

“Derek did not abuse me.”  He finally manages to get out letting his eyes drop back down to meet his Dad’s.  The grimace that appears on his Dad’s face is pained and disbelieving.  “He didn’t.. he’s not like that.”

 

“Stiles.. I think a doctor needs to look you over as well.”  He continues unrelenting, talking right over the top of him like Stiles is still a little kid and his Daddy knows best.  Stiles can feel a numbness seeping through his limbs.. what?  A doctor..

 

“And seeing as you’re already here..”  His Dad looks around the hospital room.  “We could get them to give you a check up before they release you.”

 

“What for?”  He croaks out, his gut churning because he knows.. he fucking knows he’s not going to like the answer.  His Dad looks grim and his blue eyes darken and skitter away from where they’ve been locked with his to focus somewhere above his left shoulder.

 

“To make sure you’re healthy..” 

 

“Healthy?”  Stiles can feel his face screwing up tight as he tries to understand.  His Dad puts his hand protectively on top of Stiles’ where it lays at his side.  It’s hot and dry clutching at his own clammy one, feels stifling and restraining and comforting all at the same time.  They both look down at their hands together and Stiles wonders when did it happen that his hand is now the same size as his Dad’s, slightly bigger in fact when he sees that his fingers are slightly longer.

 

“That you’ve not been hurt.. uhm.. inside in anyway.. long term abuse from an early age it can do serious harm.”  Stiles feels a chill roll through him.  “And that you’ve not caught anything..”  His Dad speaks softly now, gently as if he’s talking to one of the many victims he’s had to comfort as a police officer over the years. 

 

Stiles jerks his hand away, can’t bear the other man’s touch.  What he’s saying is ugly and vile and Stiles knows that this God awful stuff happens, but.. how can his Dad have it so wrong?  How can he not see that what is between he and Derek isn’t just sex and lust and some distorted perversion that he can practically see going through his Dad’s head?  Bile starts to rise.. he can feel the nauseating burn in his chest as it hits the back of his throat and he’s swallowing hard trying to force it back down.  It’s that or throw up everywhere. 

 

It takes him a minute to get control.

 

“He’s.. we’ve not even.. it’s nothing like that.  He’s not like that.”  Stiles can’t stop fidgeting as his agitation rises.  Can see the disbelieving look his Dad gives him.

 

“How do you know?  You can’t even remember..”  His Dad growls out fiercely.  “You don’t know what you’ve done.. what he’s done.”

 

Stiles can feel the heat rush into his cheeks, burning. “I don’t remember, but I know what he’s like.. I can feel it.  He’s a good man.  You’ve always told me to trust my gut.. my instincts.  Well that’s what mine are telling me, Derek’s a good man and he’d never hurt me.  He loves me and I love him.” 

 

His Dad scoffs loudly as he points into the box.  “A good man.. everything in here points to him knowing you better than what I do and I’m your father.  These aren’t just gifts Stiles.. they call this grooming.  Where over a period of time a pedo..”

 

“Stop it.. just stop it..”  Stiles yells interrupting him.  Rage pours through him.  He can feel a darkness welling within him it’s a complete counterpoint to the light that he normally feels when he gets this surge of power.  This wants to destroy.. it wants to lay waste to all that is before him and its focus is on his Dad.  Groaning aloud he tries to push it back down and it’s hard.. it’s a struggle to contain it, but he finally does aware all the time that the room is lit with a sickly acidic yellow orange light that gradually peters out. 

 

Heaving breaths rack his chest and Stiles knows that he was lucky that he’d gained some control of his power at the cemetery because he seriously doubts his ability to have stopped otherwise.  He doesn’t know if using his power there has changed whatever this ability is.. it’s no longer just fuelled by love.. other emotions seem to be able to charge it now.  Darker ones.  He’ll need to speak to Deaton about this.. get some answers.

 

His Dad’s wisely stepped back from the bed and he looks as shaken as Stiles feels.  A hollowed out feeling settles in his chest and he feels strangely bereft.. like he’s been cast adrift and can’t see his way back to shore.

 

Howling punches its way through the silence between them and they both turn their heads to look towards the sound.  The glass in the window nowhere near thick enough to prevent the sound from entering the hospital room.  It sounds like the wolf is right outside, yet Stiles can see with the streaky silvery light of dawn breaking through the black night the swaying tops of trees so they’re on at least the 1st or 2nd floor of the hospital.

 

 _‘Stiles...’_   Hearing his mate in his head sends warmth firing through his body.  The comfort of knowing he’s nearby is reassuring.

****

_‘Derek.’_

****

_‘Stiles awake.. Stiles hurt?’_   He can hear the anxious questioning tone in his mate’s thoughts, knows that he’s talking about an emotional hurt rather than a physical one and quickly rushes to reassure him.  He can tell by the simple manner that Derek’s worded those questions that he’s in full wolf form patrolling somewhere outside.

 

_'I'm fine.. really..’_

****

“He’s been out there all night.. howling on the hour, every hour.”  His Dad says grimly before whispering.  “I should’ve shot him too..”  Stiles doesn’t think he’s meant to have heard that last part.. it’s all he can do to hold himself back from lunging at his Dad.  Maybe his control isn’t as good as he thought it was.

 

“You need to leave.”  Stiles says, his chest heaving as he takes big breaths to try and quell the violent urge for patricide.  The beeping of the machine has steadily increased as it tries to keep up with Stiles’ rapidly beating heart.

 

The older man shakes his head in refusal.  “I’m not leaving you Stiles.. not like this.. can’t you see he’s got you so tied up in him, believing all.. all this.”  He waves his hand over the open box, fingers splayed and palm open and vulnerable.  Stiles looks down into the box almost blindly.. how can he convince his own father that what he and Derek have together is real.   That they are mates and need to be together.  His eyes rake over the box’s contents and then he sees an envelope and remembers what Derek said about a letter from his Mom.  That he’d spoken to her, that she knew about him.

 

“Did you read it?”  Stiles asks quietly, not daring to meet his Dad’s eyes.  Not sure if he wants to know really.  Either way is damning.  Yes he did and that would suck at the invasion of privacy, no he didn’t and that would blow because he needs to know that Mom knew about he and Derek.

 

“Forgeries.. how he faked your mother’s writing so well, I’ll never know.”  There’s a note in his Dad’s voice as he speaks that Stiles has never heard before.  It’s a forced conviction.. a wavering tone of doubt threaded through it and Stiles’ head snaps up immediately.

 

“That’s bullshit Dad.. just because you can’t deal with the truth that Mom knew Derek.. knew about him and what he would mean to me, don’t think you can pretend that those letters weren’t from Mom.  You know they were.”  His Dad’s face blanches, his eyes casting downwards eyelashes fluttering hiding the look in his eyes.  “Or is it rather that you don’t want to face the truth about what she wrote to you?”

 

“This isn’t about your Mom and me.”  His Dad snarls baring his teeth, anger snapping his usually calm, controlled demeanour and he looks more feral at that moment than any of the wolves that Stiles has ever seen.  “It’s about you being held against your will.. it’s about you being hurt and it’s definitely about a much older man taking advantage and molesting my son.”

 

“Do you mean Derek or..?”  Stiles says momentarily confused before trailing off at the fury that radiates from his Dad.

 

“That you even have to ask whether it’s Derek or Peter or both of them, doesn’t that tell you how very wrong the Hales are.. how very damaged?  It doesn’t matter you won’t be seeing any of them again Stiles.  Laura and Derek took Peter.  I don’t care where as long as it’s away from us.. from you.”   Stiles can feel his chest freeze, the in and out motion of simply breathing is paralysed.  “I know that Scott will need to see them still to control his.. his change, so it would be best if you and Scott don’t see each other for a while too.”

 

His Dad continues to talk and Stiles can pick up random words here and there.. separation.. arrest.. treatment.. recovery.. It’s like he’s underwater and everything that he hears is distorted.. feels like he’s in a bubble being battered over and over with words and sound.  Eventually the bubble pops and it all comes crashing in and he’s drowning.. struggling to keep his head up.

 

“Get out.”  Stiles whispers.  His eyes lock onto his Dad’s startled face and he starts to yell.  “Get out.. get out.. get out.. before I do something.. something bad.”

 

That acidic yellow orange glow is back and Stiles can feel the power surging inside him.. but it’s different not the clean, loving, light energy he normally feels.  This is oily and slick, seductive and offering him everything he wants.  The temptation is so great he almost feels like letting it loose, letting it do what it wants and he has to clamp down on that urge.. hard.  Even so he can see that the bed he’s resting on and the other furniture and medical equipment in the room shudders and shifts over the floor, scraping and banging loudly before he’s finally able to lock it down.

 

“Stiles..”  His Dad begins eyes wide and shocked.

 

“Get out.”  The voice he speaks with then isn’t his own, isn’t that of a 16 year old boy.  Stiles can hear himself and is almost frightened.  It’s deeper, darker and with the press of age and power within it.  He can see his Dad visibly swallow as he looks at him with fear darkened eyes before he steps away trying to drag the box with him.  Stiles easily holds it one handed and gives a pointed look at his Dad’s hand on the other end.  Quickly releasing it, his Dad steps back slowly, stepping away from the bed, his eyes never leaving Stiles’.

 

“I’ll come back later.. when you’re more… you.”  His Dad sounds shaky but determined and Stiles grimaces.. he can’t do this again, begins to say so when his Dad stops moving back and stands in the door frame. 

 

“I love you, son.”  He says starkly and is gone.  Stiles can only look around the empty room and feels a hurt so deep and profound that he wonders if the relationship he has with his Dad has been irreparably damaged.  God he hopes not, but his Dad is forcing a choice on him, one he’d never thought he’d be backed into making.

 

For all that he was so desperate to get his treasure box back Stiles puts the lid back on and simply holds it to his chest as he draws the covers over his head making his own cave and snuggles down.  He lies there replaying everything he and his Dad said to each other.  Round and round until his head aches.  Lifting one hand Stiles rubs his forehead and sucks in a shaky disbelieving breath when he realises that the bump that he’d been sporting has disappeared and what pain he’s feeling is solely a normal headache.  A stress headache for sure, a bitter hiccupping chuckle escapes him at the thought.

 

Closing his eyes Stiles wishes with all his might that Derek was here with him right now.

 

 _‘I’m here Stiles..’_   Derek’s thoughts brush against his so softly that it takes Stiles a moment to register them, when he does he can feel something tight and jagged in his chest ease and smooth out at the knowledge that Derek is near. 

 

That Derek’s keeping watch over him.

 

 

 

From underneath the covers Stiles can see daylight penetrate through the harshly woven cotton sheets.  How long he’s been lying there since his Dad left he doesn’t know.. could be minutes.. could be hours.  He’s more inclined to think a couple of hours at the very least from the light in the room.

 

He hears the door open and close.  A shadow crosses the sheet and Stiles doesn’t want to see or speak to anyone unless they’re here to tell him he can get the fuck out of there.

 

“Stiles.. baby..”  Derek’s voice has him gasping.  Hearing his low worried growl has Stiles flinging back the covers to see his mate standing at his bedside fists clenching and unclenching, his face drawn and tight with anxiety, eyes scanning over him hungrily.

 

“Derek..”  Stiles pushes up from the mattress and launches himself at the older man knowing that he’ll catch him.  Strong arms wrap around him and hold him tight to the hard muscular body beneath the black leather jacket. 

 

“God Stiles.. I thought I’d lost you.”  He sounds so broken that Stiles feels sharp remorse pierce through his belly like a blade.

 

“I’m sorry.. I’m sorry..”  He peppers kisses over Derek’s face in between each apology before pressing his lips tight to his wolf’s.. can feel the groan vibrate from deep within the broad chest and into his they’re locked together so tightly.

 

“Stiles.. please baby you gotta stop.  I’m not in complete control of myself today and you’re pushing buttons in me that..”  He mouths the words against Stiles’ lips and growls in heated frustration as Stiles takes the opportunity to dart his tongue inside his mouth in a sweeping caress as he speaks.  “Damn it.. stop that unless you want to be taken on this hospital bed for everyone to see.”

 

“I don’t care.”  Stiles cries out and can see that Derek’s frozen his nostrils flaring and the chest under Stiles’ hands is heaving desperately trying to draw air into seemingly starving lungs.  He presses his face into the wolf’s throat and draws his scent in.  “I don’t care.”  He says again, breathes out the words softly against warm skin.

 

Clutching fingers grip tightly at Stiles’ waist and between his shoulder blades, anchoring him.  He’ll have fingertip sized bruises tomorrow he thinks, but then again maybe not considering the way the bump on his head has mysteriously healed and disappeared.

 

_‘Don’t push me Stiles.. I’m so close.. so  fucking on the edge.. I thought.. I thought Peter had.. God you don’t know what was going through my head.. if I hadn’t given you my phone with the GPS I don’t know how long it would’ve taken me to find you.. if he’d touched you I would’ve killed him..’_

 

Stiles reluctantly pulls back and looks into Derek’s face.  He’s not exaggerating Stiles can tell, his jawline is bulging he’s got it clenched so tight and red and gold eyes blaze as they look back at him.  Heavy hands grip tight and hold him in place and Stiles can feel the warmth from those hands against his skin as it penetrates the thin cotton hospital gown that he’s been dressed in. 

 

 _‘My wolf it wants to claim you.. take you.. mark you all over again so everyone knows that you’re mine..’_   A rumbling noise wells from deep inside the older man. 

 

 _‘It’s not just what the wolf wants.. if you ever put yourself in danger like that again I’ll…’_   Derek stops and nudges Stiles’ jaw with his nose making him lift it up and expose the long line of his throat, a hot rasping wet tongue licks up that line before nipping and holding his cheek and jaw with blunt human teeth in a firm bite and Stiles is left shaking at the dominance in the act.

****

Stiles can’t breathe, his skin feels tight and his whole body achy.  **_‘_** _You’ll punish me..’_

****

A furiously red flush rises up Derek’s throat and over his face, the tips of his ears glow like embers from a banked fire and he stiffens before his hips surge forward thrusting against the bed moving it across the floor with jerky scraping movements.

 

 _‘Fuck yes..’_   Even in Stiles' head Derek sounds out of control.

 

His hands flex and stretch where they hold Stiles as he kneels on the bed and he can’t help the little gasp that escapes him when he feels Derek’s fingers find the gap at the back of the hospital gown and start to stroke along the line of his spine between his shoulder blades with bruising hunger.  Stiles’ skin burns at the touch.

 

“Derek please..”  Stiles can only moan his mate’s name feeling half-delirious at all the feelings and emotions that are churning and boiling deep inside him.

 

Stiles’ breath hitches wildly when he feels Derek tug at the gown’s ties.  His eyes lock onto fiery Alpha ones of red and gold as he feels the ties at his nape come undone quickly followed by the ones at the centre of his back. 

 

As Derek’s undoing the fastenings he strokes Stiles’ back with different touches some so delicate it’s like a barely there brushing sensation against his flesh that raises goosebumps and others that are firm and massage deep into the vertebrae leaving him weak and trembling.  The ties at the base of his spine are knotted and no matter how much Derek tugs on them they won’t pull free making him growl in frustration until Stiles hears the rasp of material being slashed and the gentle scrape of claws against his skin.

 

“Derek..”  He whispers his name before leaning forward and letting his cheek and jaw brush against Derek’s.  The older man’s stubble prickles deliciously against his sensitive skin, abrasive heat flaring as he rubs and nuzzles into the wolf and he's instinctively growling softly in response when he hears a rumble of approval and the hard press of Derek’s face against his.

 

Derek’s strong hands turn him around so he’s kneeling on top of the hospital bed facing away from his mate.  He’s kinda grateful he’s still got his boxers on because the way the hospital gown gapes and flaps at the rear, particularly now that it’s been opened completely, means his back is on display from his nape to the waistband of his boxers which ride low on his bony hips and he wouldn’t want to be giving just anyone a free pass at viewing the Stilinski ass. 

 

Shivers race through his body at the first press of Derek’s warm lips against the nobbly bone at the top of his spine, his head falling forward to give his wolf greater access.  Sparks shoot up its length, the nerve endings and synapses of his central nervous system firing with lava-hot pleasure as Derek’s lips and mouth kiss and suck over and over down the long groove of his back that marks his spinal column.  When Stiles feels the scrape of blunt human teeth nipping into the dimples that sit just above the curve of his ass, the whine that escapes him has his face blazing with furious heat.

 

Long, languid licks stroke back up and with every hot breath against the cool wet trail leading towards Stiles’ vulnerable nape he can feel ripples of goosebumps race across his skin in reaction.  Derek sucks hard against the patch of skin that Stiles knows is where his wolf gave him the claiming bite, his cock thickens and swells hard and fast in his boxers at the intense pleasure of it, that threatens his sanity.

 

Derek’s fingers trace the top of his boxers, following the line with a gentle touch from his hip to across Stiles’ back and when they start to tug at the waistband to stroke his flesh underneath it he can only tremble uncontrollably. 

 

Derek’s mouth lifts off Stiles’ neck and he starts to nuzzle into his ear, his questing stroking fingers slide from his boxers to dip under the hospital gown and he starts to trace patterns up and down Stiles’ sides before reaching around and seeking out his nipples.  Lightly pinching them over and over until Stiles is moaning incoherently.  He’s gonna die.. there’s no way a mere human can endure this wicked torment, he can only fist the bed sheets tightly trying to hang on.

 

“Fuck Stiles.. I wanna bite you so bad.. you’ve no idea..”  Derek sounds on the verge of breaking as he presses his scorching hot torso against Stiles’ back.  He slides his mouth down to the hinge of Stiles’ jaw and nibbles on it before suckling hard.   With one hand Stiles reaches up and back to slide his hand onto the back of Derek’s head letting his fingers tangle and twist pull on the silky dark strands earning him a long groan of approval as Derek tugs against his hold, deliberately increasing the pulling tension and that’s so fucking hot Stiles can feel a pulse of pre-come seep out of the tip of his aching cock.

 

“Derek.. please..”  Stiles moans his mate’s name as need rides him hard and leaves him raw and aching.

 

“Stiles..”  Whatever Derek’s about to say is lost when they hear an insistent loud alarm from an adjacent room and the sound of running feet and urgent raised voices.  Stiles sighs.. this is not the place for this, not by a long shot.  Derek seems to realise it too as he wraps himself around Stiles closer, tighter, harder.  Pressing his face against Stiles’ neck and drawing in deep shuddering breaths over and over, scenting him, until eventually they’re both calmer. 

 

Shifting Stiles turns in the strong arms that hold him close.  Facing the other man Stiles realises that he was mistaken, he maybe calmer, but his mate’s still on edge.  Stiles reaches up and gently starts to stroke over his jaw with a steady light touch.. over and over he smooths and rubs and slowly ever so slowly he can feel Derek’s teeth start to unclench, his jaw start to unlock.  With feather light touches Stiles brushes his fingertips over high cheekbones that are hot against his skin then over the little furrows that crinkle at the bridge of Derek’s nose between light green eyes that bleed out the Alpha red as he watches.  It’s easier to call them green than to try and discern each and every one of the myriad colours that are held within his mate’s irises.

 

Derek chuffs in affection as he nuzzles his cheek against Stiles’ caressing hand. 

 

“Can we get out of here?”  Derek stills at the question.

 

“You need to be discharged and your Dad..”  Derek stops as Stiles turns his head away.  The pain of that confrontation is still too fresh.  Whatever is showing on his face is obviously all too visible to Derek as he captures Stiles’ chin and tilts it back so he can see into his eyes before Derek’s lift and fix on his forehead where the large lump had been.  He doesn’t say anything but the tension he’s been carrying in his shoulders seems to lessen.

 

“Please.”  Stiles asks, painfully aware of how vulnerable he sounds.  Derek leans forwards and lightly brushes his mouth over Stiles’ in the most fleeting and delicate of kisses.

 

“Okay.  Get dressed.” 

 

Stiles slides off the bed and grabs his clothes and shoes from the day before which are laid out on one of the chairs before going into the bathroom.  He wishes he had a change of clean clothes, particularly his boxers they’re damp with pre-come from where his cock leaked so heavily.  He pulls them off and folds them over and over until they’re a small square of fabric which he puts in his hoodie pocket.  It feels weird going commando but better that than being chafed by damp underwear he decides. By the time he comes out after a quick wash and brushing his teeth with one of the packaged toothbrushes he found in the bathroom cabinet the room is even lighter as the new day begins.

 

The black box is still on the bed where he left it.. untouched. 

 

Derek is leaning against the end of the bed waiting for him, from all appearances has been watching the bathroom door for him to come out.  He can’t help but notice that Derek’s still looking.. bulgy around his zipper and a part of Stiles is pleased to see how much the wolf is affected by him.  Stiles gives him a little smile as he dumps the hospital gown over the side railing of the bed and picks up the box.

 

“You’ve not..”  Derek stops almost hesitantly and points at the box and Stiles slowly shakes his head, no.  “Why?”

 

“At first I couldn’t wait, was dying to open it.. then after my Dad earlier.. I couldn’t, didn’t want to not without you.”  He looks down at the black lid as if he tried hard enough he could see through it, before flicking a questioning look at the other man, needing the reassurance.  “Together.. it needs to be us together.”

 

Derek reaches up and grips the back of Stiles’ neck with a heavy yet strangely soothing hand and pulls him close so their foreheads touch.  Green eyes flicker over his face, studying him even as they linger on his mouth.

 

“Come on Pandora.. I know somewhere private..”  Derek’s lips quirk at the corners and Stiles rolls his eyes at his mate’s lame ass sense of humour.

 

They walk out of the hospital room and Stiles can only hope that opening up the box and regaining his memories isn’t anywhere near as catastrophic as the one in ancient legend. 

 

The box is the key to unlocking his memories he just knows it.  The good and the bad.

 

A shiver racks through Stiles’ body.  Very soon he’s going to know everything.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek takes Stiles to a place that's special to him so that he can regain his memories from the so-called 'Pandora's treasure box'. Only as per usual.. things don't quite go according to plan which could be a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So OMG where did the time go - I apologise for taking so long with this chapter. It is cold and flu season where I am and I got slammed with the flu for 2 weeks where my chest/lungs and oxygen didn't quite mix - struggling to breathe is so not conducive to writing as I discovered. 
> 
> I was also suffering from acute 'performance anxiety' and I know I've said this before but these versions are my boys and putting them out for the world to see and the direction I'm going.. well I've got a lot going on in my head with this 'verse which resulted in.. see below.
> 
> You may have noticed that I have made this into a series called "The last time was the first time".  
> "THE FIRST TIME" is PART 1 and the focus is on Derek and Stiles there is now a PART 2 called "THE COURTSHIP OF SHERIFF STILINSKI: A FIRST TIME INTERLUDE" so if you want to see what happened to John Stilinski after the confrontation with Stiles, read this - it is set between chapters 31 and 32 of "The first time". I will hopefully add to that intermittently as needed.
> 
> Some sweet sexy loving in this one because I needed it and I think you all did after what Stiles went through with his Dad in the last one.
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

When Derek grabs hold of Stiles’ hand he jerks in surprise.  He didn’t think they were talking to each other let alone touching.  The silence, physical and bonded, between them hanging thick and heavy.  The feel of Derek’s skin against his makes him feel warm and flushed and it’s instinctive to clutch at that tight grip as the werewolf leads him through the woods. 

 

It’s strong and firm as Derek guides him through the underbrush, although he can’t help rolling his eyes when his mate helps him step over any fallen branches and avoiding rocks half buried in the ground that could easily twist and snap a slender, fragile ankle.  Luckily his are a bit more sturdy than that, although he’s starting to feel like the heroine of a gothic romance novel.

 

He tries to stifle a silent snicker when he wonders what Derek would do if he swooned.

 

Amusement disappears and a shiver runs through him when he feels Derek’s thumb brush ever so lightly over the back of his hand.  An idle caress he thinks until he looks up at his mate’s face and sees the other man watching him with an intensity that feels like a physical touch on his skin. 

 

Okay.. maybe swooning is definitely on the cards if Derek keeps looking at him like that.

 

He tries to smile, but can’t seem to co-ordinate his facial muscles to move in the right order and it ends up feeling like a distorted grimace, so he lets it go.. simply clutches the black box to his chest in his other arm tighter and tries to concentrate on making his way through the brush without embarrassing himself by falling flat on his face.

 

That they’d argued on the short drive to the woods made his gut churn.  Derek had wanted him to send his Dad a message that he’d discharged himself out of the hospital and was safe.  Stiles didn’t.   In fact he didn’t want to think about his Dad at all.. the things he’d said about Derek and himself were like a stain in his mind.. black, oily and disgusting.     

He’d not told Derek the full details of what his Dad had implied, just that they’d argued.. there was no way he was going to inflict that pain on his mate, not when he’d more than adequately tortured himself under the delusion that he’d damaged Stiles in some way by loving him. 

 

It wasn’t until Derek pointed out that with the Sheriff’s Department behind him, his Dad could easily track them down if he put out an APB and yeah.. it was something his Dad would do, so he’d sent the briefest text he could manage from the parking lot of the local McDonald’s in case it was traced back and so Derek could get them breakfast.

 

**Discharged myself from hospital.  Need time to think.  C u 2nite @ Scott’s.**

 

Then promptly turned his phone off before any messages or calls could come through.  It was less than what his Dad deserved.  Stiles felt petty and vindictive and it felt good.  The strained silence that had fallen between him and Derek though.. not so crash hot.

 

They keep walking and the sun is high enough in the morning sky that it filters through the trees to create a peaceful shimmering contrast of light and shade and Stiles can feel some of the tension that had dogged him since his confrontation first with his Dad and then with Derek, ease slightly. He lets his feet kick up the fallen leaves that layer the ground, shades of brown and gold tumbling over and over around his converses like a wave.   

 

With his Dad and Derek both banning him from going into the woods all those years ago because of Greenberg, he’d forgotten how the preserve always seemed to tap into something deep inside and simply let him release all his cares and frustrations.. like it would accept whatever burdened him and he would be free of the weight.  He can feel it now, a lightness as though he’s passed over that heaviness and he lets it go and almost like Derek can sense it, he keeps looking back at Stiles over his shoulder like he can’t quite work out what’s different about him.  

 

‘ _How far?’_   Stiles asks through their bond, with the huge trees arching their branches cathedral-like overhead it almost feels that they are somewhere sacred and he’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t want to disturb that peace or that he’s worried that they would be overheard.  They’re old these trees and almost feel.. sentient.. aware.

 

‘ _Not much further._ ’  Derek points forward and keeps moving.  Stiles lets his mind drift and his eyes wander until he sees Derek’s ass move in those tight, tight jeans.  His solid thighs bunch and flex with every step and he’s so focused on that oh so fine sight that when Derek stops, Stiles ploughs into him.  Rebounding a step or two, it takes him a moment to realise that they’ve arrived.  Derek simply raises one eyebrow at him and Stiles can feel heat flush his cheeks and stares back at him defying him to comment.

 

Then he sees it and all thoughts of embarrassment are forgotten.  It’s amazing.  They’re on the edge of the escarpment that overlooks the sprawl that is Beacon Hills and he can see everything.  Can pinpoint the Sheriff’s station and even the McDonald’s golden arches on the main drag where they’d stopped for breakfast.  There’s a huge rock that juts out and Derek leads him to it with a light squeeze to his hand. 

 

“Hey, you’ve got your own ‘Pride rock’.  Hakuna matata, dude.”  Stiles can feel his cheeks stretch and that smile that had been so hard to find before is back and all natural when he sees the major eye roll that the older man gives him as he turns his head away, but not before Stiles has seen the little quirk to the corner of his mouth like he might be trying to hold back a little smile of his own.  God forbid he strain something.

 

“Don’t call me dude.”  Derek says sternly. 

 

“How about Simba?”  Stiles can’t stop himself from jigging up and down on the spot when a thought comes to him.  “Ooh ooh.. that means Peter’s your very own Uncle Scar.”   

 

“Really Stiles.. really.  Okay.”  Derek smirks.  “If I’m Simba that makes you Nala.” 

 

“Okay I’m impressed.  You know your ‘Lion King’, but I’m not a girl and no way am I just going to roll over and bat my eyelashes at you when you get all.. all ‘kingly’.”  Stiles flutters his eyelashes at him mockingly before he scowls fiercely.  “Or should it be ‘alpha-ly’?.. is that even a word?”  He ponders, head tilted to one side.

 

“That’s a shame.. you don’t know what your lashes do to me, they’re so long and pretty.”  Derek tugs on the hand he’s still holding and Stiles stumbles forward and falls against his mate’s solid chest.  He’s so toned and hard, Stiles feels heat flicker low in his groin at the thought of Derek pressing him down to the ground, his heavy weight.. pinning him.  Derek wraps his other arm around Stiles’ back and holds him tight while he nuzzles against his face, lips brushing against the line of his jaw and up to gently kiss his eyelid. 

 

“I like it when you roll over for me..”  He drags his burning mouth across the bridge of Stiles’ nose before kissing his other eyelid.  “I like it when you don’t..” 

 

He pulls back and looks at Stiles.. his eyes dropping to his mouth and he leans in close whispering hoarsely as his lips hover the merest fraction of an inch apart from Stiles’.  “I like everything you do to me.. for me.. with me.” 

 

Stiles can feel his chest go tight as Derek talks and then he’s lurching up to kiss that mouth, demanding everything from the other man.. giving him everything in return and their lips part and it’s quickly flaring into something wild and uncontrolled as their tongues sweep and lick into each other’s mouth.  He’s hungry for the taste of his mate and Derek seems to be equally ravenous.  Their earlier interlude in his hospital room went unfinished and it seems that the burning need they have for each other is just sitting beneath a thin veneer of civilized behaviour.  Lying in wait.

 

The vibration of Derek’s growling against his chest as he pushes his hips into Stiles’ is what makes him able to drag his mouth away from his mate’s as he wishes he could remember the first time he’d felt the other man pressed against him.  Not like this.  He wants more.

 

He presses his hand against the middle of Derek’s chest in what he knows is a futile attempt to keep his mate back, Derek could all too easily overpower him with his strength and that thought makes him shiver in an entirely good way.   He barely manages to hang onto that determination when instead Derek chases his mouth with his own, eyes flaring red and in a panting heavy breath he grinds out just one word.  “Please.”

 

His gut ties up into knots hearing his Alpha.. his mate beg for his kiss.   

 

“No..”  Stiles manages to breathe out and Derek jerks as though he’s been skewered, his eyes instantly losing that fervent gleam that leaves Stiles weak-kneed and breathless. 

 

“Not like this.. please Derek I want to be me.  All of me.. have all of my memories when we’re.. together.”  He finishes helplessly before he leans forward and presses his face against Derek’s throat drawing in the wonderful earthy scent of his wolf.  The heaving shuddering sigh that comes out of his mate then is as though it was pulled out of the very core of him and Stiles presses a light kiss to the pulse that visibly beats so rapidly in his neck. 

 

Asking for understanding and receiving it sends ripples of relief throughout his body when Derek rests his cheek against his hair.  They stand together, arms wrapped around each other and simply.. be.  The feel of his mate’s breath stirring the strands at the crown of his head sends sparks of sensation shooting down Stiles’ nape and he tightens his hold where he’s wrapped his arm around Derek’s waist.

 

“It’s okay.”  Derek says eventually, as he pulls back and leads him to the big rock and with his other hand flicks out the picnic blanket that he’s been carrying draped over his arm, spreading it out over the cool stone and laying a bottle of water on it that he pulls out of the inside pocket of his jacket. 

 

Derek sits down in an easy supple movement, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his thighs that leaves Stiles feeling clumsy and awkward as he drops down so heavily on his knees it makes him wince.  There will be bruises there tomorrow.  He puts the black treasure box on the rug between them. 

 

Now that they’re here Stiles can feel a rising tide of fear well up within him.. what if this doesn’t work?  What if it does?  What if it doesn’t feel the same?  What if.. what if.. what if..  He can feel his heart thumping in his chest so hard and fast that he knows there’s no way that Derek won’t know of the panic that’s rising in him. 

 

Flicking a quick look up into his mate’s as ever inscrutable face before lowering his gaze and staring hard at the tartan pattern of the rug, Stiles rubs his sweaty palms on his cotton pants down the length of his thighs. 

 

“My Dad first showed me this spot.”  Stiles’ head jerks up and he can see that Derek isn’t watching him as he speaks in that soft, almost hesitant tone that doesn’t seem to fit the exterior of stubble, scowls and black leather.  It makes Stiles’ insides go hot and mushy at the contrast knowing that not many people see this side of his mate.  Stiles drinks in his perfect profile as he looks out across Beacon Hills at the sprawl of roads and buildings and he wonders what exactly his wolf is seeing with his super wolfy senses. 

 

Derek doesn’t talk about his Dad that often.. usually he’s referring more to his Mom, with Talia being his Alpha back then it’s kind of understandable as she was such a powerful influence on his life, human and wolf.  But, when he talks about his Dad.. it’s with a fondness and respect in his tone that makes Stiles believe that his Dad may have been a Beta to his Mom, but he was definitely an equally important authority figure in the Hale household.

 

“Whenever I needed some time on my own… away from the pack I’d come here.  I think that’s why my Dad showed it to me.  I can’t believe that I actually wanted time apart from them now, but..  I was a teenage boy and my brother and sisters would literally drive me howling mad and I think he understood that.”  He smiles wryly at what Stiles imagines is a bittersweet memory before turning to look at him.

 

“Now I get to share it with you.”  He says softly as he turns his hand over on his knee and displays his open vulnerable palm in silent supplication and without hesitation Stiles slides his hand over Derek’s long thick fingers and wraps his own around the older man’s wrist.  Can feel the slightly elevated pulse tapping out a rhythm against his fingertips.  That his wolf isn’t as calm and in control as he outwardly appears to be is bizarrely comforting.  The beat is soothing and gradually Stiles can feel his own anxiety start to fall away.

 

He leans forward and rests his forehead against Derek’s.  Breathing out a sigh of almost contentment against Derek’s face, his hand tightens around the wolf’s as he realises that Derek inhales deeply and purposefully right at that very moment to draw his warm breath into his own lungs.  That Derek wants a part of him, even something so ephemeral as the very air he breathes, has him reeling and sitting back on his heels wondering when God’s punchline is going to strike.  It’s still hard for him to believe that this man.. this amazing man wants him, it has to be a joke and yet, there’s a look in Derek’s eyes and it seems to Stiles that it’s comprised of love and trust.. in him.

 

Looking down at the black box that sits between them.. Stiles can’t wait.  The impulse is sharp and sudden.  He needs to be complete.. he needs to remember everything.  Everything they have been and everything they are to each other and maybe then he’ll understand.  Maybe then he’ll truly believe.  Releasing Derek’s hand he tugs slightly against the older man’s hold and hisses softly between his teeth at the drag of Derek’s fingertips over his sensitive palm and wrist when he eventually lets go.

 

Green eyes meet his and he flips off the lid unable to look away from the kaleidoscope of colours and emotions that pinwheel through his mate’s eyes.  When Derek finally blinks, the spell is broken and Stiles can look down into the box and he sees the mobile phone and charger he’d seen during the confrontation with his Dad.  Pulling it out he wonders if it’s starting to short out as he feels a tingle, like static charge, in his fingertips.  He presses the button on the side and the screen lights up.  It’s down to the bare minimum of charge and the battery warning light glows red.

 

Flicking through to the contacts list he puzzles over the sole name listed.  Frowning he turns to Derek.

 

“Who the hell is Sergei?”  Bafflement ripples through him as Derek laughs delightedly pointing a finger at himself.

 

“I didn’t know you’d added that.  I’m Sergei.  It’s a codename we use sometimes.. mainly to put off hunters who might recognise the Hale name.”  Stiles huffs in relief because it was a bit of a shock to see another guy’s name in his phone.  Derek’s face draws tight as he looks at the phone that Stiles holds in his hand.  “I got it for you after Greenberg.”

 

Stiles’ stomach lurches uncontrollably as the memory of that awful time comes flooding back, only now.. now there’s flashes of new memory.. of a black wolf wrapped around a boy that kinda looks like him.. a younger looking Derek standing in his bedroom in the daylight.. Derek straddling him and looking down into his face with a hunger that made him tremble.. makes him tremble now remembering and of all things scenes from.. ‘Blazing Saddles’.. what the fuck?

 

He can feel his forehead screw up as he tries to puzzle out that last image.  “Blazing Saddles?”  He says aloud, startled when Derek sucks in a sharp breath and the intensity with which he focuses on Stiles lets him know that he wasn’t wrong or that it wasn’t some random memory trying to slot in where it didn’t belong.

 

“We watched it together on your 12th birthday..”  His lips curve in a little smile.  “You couldn’t believe I’d never seen it before.”

 

“A comedy classic.  Everyone should see it.”  Stiles nods his head as he puts down the phone and charger onto the rug.  He can feel a stab of pain in his temple, nowhere near as bad as he’d experienced before, rubbing his forefinger across his eyebrow and his thumb in circles over the sensitive skin near the corner of his eye is almost enough to soothe it away completely.  He looks into the box and as he reaches toward the envelope that sticks out slightly Derek’s hand flashes out and grabs his before he can touch it.

 

“How are you feeling?”  Derek’s eyes trace over his face and it feels like a physical touch and he can see the worry and concern that etch grooves either side of his mate’s mouth.  “Does it hurt?”

 

He covers Derek’s hand where it’s wrapped around his and squeezes lightly.. smiling at him encouragingly.  Shaking his head, no. 

 

“No.. not really it’s.. it’s okay.  Just a little twinge.  I’m just getting these images popping into my head..”  He tilts his head considering.  “Random stuff.. I.. I think it’s going to be okay.”  He replays in his mind those memories that came back when he touched the phone and they don’t seem as remote.. not so distant.. their clarity is greater and he has the feeling that every time he taps into them that feeling will increase until it’s a seamless memory, less forced and a more natural one.

 

Derek slowly lets go and Stiles touches the envelope, it feels surprisingly warm under his fingers and a sharp jolt of memory pours through him.  Purple irises and flickering tea lights.. balloons bunched together swaying in the breeze.. his Dad’s aftershave searing his nose from where his face is buried in his Dad’s chest as they hold each other tight. 

 

He tugs on the envelope, but it’s caught on something inside the box and he doesn’t want to tear it so Stiles reaches in and finds the trapped corner and untangles the bracelet with trembling fingers and freezes.  His fingers crush the bracelet into his palm and Stiles feels like his stomach has plummeted off the escarpment and down.. down only to be met with a rushing force that has him lurching crazily up onto his feet.

 

Instinctively, he calls on his power.  The need to protect his mate is beyond reason and he pushes it down and into the rock they stand on.  Satisfaction courses through him when he feels the snap of it settling into place and then the steady tingling thrum of power and he knows that whatever may happen, whatever threat they may face.. they are both safe.  For now.

 

Standing, swaying back and forth he can hear Derek desperately calling his name from far, far away and the wolf is in front of him looking into his eyes and he’s trying to prise the bracelet out of Stiles’ hand.  Can’t let go.. the stone.. the green stone that reminds him of Derek’s beautiful eyes cuts into the flesh of his hand and he can smell the copper of spilled blood.. smoke and ashes in the gentle breeze.. can scent the wild earthy musk of his wolf.

 

When the pain starts Stiles can’t say a word.. can’t scream aloud at the agony that travels through his nerve endings and races from the fingertips that even an Alpha werewolf can’t draw apart, up the length of his arm and into the base of his skull where his brain feels like it’s been electrified.  Walls are crashing down in his head he can feel them give way before the power that has been unleashed through the stone. 

 

 _‘Derek.. Derek.. Derek..’_   He calls for his mate desperately.  Needs him.

 

He remembers when Derek was dying from the wolfsbane and he touched the amber stone of **_his_** bracelet and Derek’s memories had flooded into him.  Somehow.. in some way the stones had absorbed the events of the past as they wore them, as they lived them.  He doesn’t know if it’s the stones themselves or his freaky glowy magic or something else entirely, but he can feel them.. the memories in a chaotic haze of images and feelings and sensations blasting through his mind.  Whatever blocks Peter had put in place are being destroyed and it’s like a domino effect.. the stone is returning his memories from when he started wearing the bracelet, but the restraints have been smashed and **_all_** the missing pieces are surging forward trying to take their place all at the same time.  

 

It’s agonizing.

 

Time has no meaning as he feels the threads of his mind being retied.. synapses reconnecting.. memories resurfacing.. He can hear voices talking, whispering at him.. he can feel hands touching him.. lips brushing against his, he can see light and shadow.. shapes and figures moving.  Colours harsh and blurring.  They slowly.. oh so slowly start to become clearer like the smeared, smudged window he’s been looking through has been wiped clean.

 

**_The first time he sees Derek it hits him like a shockwave as he realises the unconscious teenage boy lying in the hospital bed is.. beautiful.._ **

**_Derek tucks him underneath his large, warm body protecting him from his vicious sisters.._ **

**_their first kiss a gentle barely there, butterfly one that even at ten he knows will change his life forever.._ **

**_the look in Derek’s eyes when he tells him ‘I love you’ for the first time.._ **

**_Derek looking at him through a window, pain stark in his eyes, their hands pressed against the cold glass.._ **

**_his trembling fingers lightly tracing the tattoo that ripples over Derek’s muscular back, awed at the other boy’s strength.._ **

**_a grief-stricken, naked and shaking Derek above him on his bed and asking in a tremulous voice “Did I.. did I hurt you?”, the need to comfort him almost overpowering in its intensity.._ **

**_Laura putting him in a headlock “Stiles.. you’re family now” and the happiness that sweeps over him that he is pack.._ **

**_his mouth stretched as wide as he can around Derek’s cock “That’s it baby.. suck me.. suck my cock..” ringing in his ears as his groin is on fire needing his mate.._ **

**_Derek strikes and his fangs pierce Stiles’ flesh at the nape of his neck and he screams his mates’ name at the pleasure pain and the satisfaction at knowing that he has been claimed.._ **

**_Stiles’ back arching and his hips pushing up in one final hard thrust of his cock deep into Derek’s mouth as he comes, love and pleasure entwining deep within him.._ **

**_his face buried in the thick ruff of fur at Derek’s neck as he hears ‘love you Stiles.. love you mate..’ in his head and he can never hear those words enough.._ **

 

So many more images and emotions wash over and through his mind each one needing to be examined.. and absorbed.  Is this what it’s like to be haunted.. ghosts of the past echoing not only into his mind but his very soul?

****

Finally, the memories eventually release their hold and Stiles can feel the muscles in his body slowly unlock and the tension that had kept him drawn tighter than a bow string unwinds and with a stuttering harsh breath he collapses into Derek’s waiting arms.   His mate draws him down to the ground, their legs tangling as Derek lies half draped over him and with low keening noises he scents and nuzzles into his face and throat.. his arms hold him with a clutching desperate ferocity that borders on painful.

 

“Stiles.. Stiles..”  Derek rasps his name out, over and over and his thick, emotion filled voice has Stiles lifting heavy eyelids to see his mate’s pale ravaged yet still beautiful face only inches away from his own.  Lifting a hand he cups the side of Derek’s face and rubs his thumb over the deep lines that mark it between his nose and his mouth. 

 

The sky above them is the deep blue of twilight and Stiles feels a surge of adrenaline that pushes him into an upright position and he looks around him, head twisting and arms flailing wildly.  Night is starting to fall.  As he watches lights flicker on in Beacon Hills and the suburban sprawl looks like a twinkling blanket has been draped over the town.

 

“Derek?”  His mouth is dry and he can hear the cracked, shaky pitch to his voice.  “What happened?”

 

“I don’t know.. I don’t know.”  Derek draws him back down and holds him tighter, his face grim and drawn as he whispers starkly. 

 

“I could hear you screaming in my head.  Over and over.. calling out my name and I couldn’t do anything.”  Stiles’ belly clenches tight hearing the pain in his mate’s voice.

 

“Then nothing.. I thought.. I thought it had broken you.. destroyed your mind. You didn’t move.. didn’t speak.. didn’t blink.”  Derek groans as he presses his face into Stiles’ neck and mouths along the tendon that pulls taut as Stiles tilts his head to one side in invitation. 

 

“Six hours.. six hours when I didn’t hear your voice or feel you through our bond.”  Derek huffs out and Stiles can hear the pain and fear that his mate endured every second of that 6 hours in his voice.  “I never want to hear that silence again.  I’d rather you not remember anything about me or us.. than go through that.  I want you to talk.. to not shut up even if we're pissed at each other and then you can tell me that you are.”

 

He can hear the truthfulness in Derek's voice.  He means it and Stiles can feel his face flush in a strange mix of relief and pleasure.  He knows he talks a lot.  He's been told that before.. once or twice.. maybe times a hundred.. a thousand.  He's pretty sure this is the first time someone's told him to never stop.

 

“When I tried to move you or pick you up your heart.. it would race, would beat so hard and so fast I thought you were going to have a heart attack.  Not that it would’ve done any good anyway..”  He laughs mirthlessly.

 

“What?  Why?”  Stiles can feel ice settle into his stomach.  The heavy cold weight of dread.  He isn’t going to like what he hears he can tell.

 

“I couldn’t leave this rock.. there’s a barrier. Nothing can come in and nothing goes out.. not even a text.  I couldn’t contact anyone not even a pack howl got through.”  Stiles puts his hand down, moving the rug to one side, and through the stone he can feel it.  A power that reacts to his touch like a puppy to its master, with a wriggling, uncontrollable, eager surge as it tries to push its way back into him.  He opens himself to it and feels energized.. revitalized as the power throbs through him.  A noticeable change in the very pressure of the atmosphere surrounding them confirms that whatever invisible barrier had been there before was now gone.

 

“I couldn’t help you.. I couldn’t do anything.”  Derek’s voice is harsh and breaking and guilt sweeps over Stiles as he tries to imagine it if their roles were reversed.  The emotional agony that thought brings is gut-wrenching.  He wants to be sick.

 

“Fuck..”  Stiles holds the other man tighter, feels the shudders that wrack through his body. 

 

“It’s okay.. I’m sorry.. so sorry.. we’re okay Derek.”  He tries to lift his mate’s face out of where it’s buried into the crook of his neck, but Derek growls and presses deeper.  Instead he cups the back of his head pressing his face into his skin harder and threads his fingers through the soft dark strands of his mate’s hair.  Fingers tangled, Stiles lowers his face and he drags his lips over the rim of Derek’s ear, whispering words of comfort and apology.. soothing the shattered wolf.

 

With gentle hands he rubs over Derek’s back in slow circles and with his mouth presses soft wet kisses along his hairline, wherever he can reach and touch his mate’s skin.  Eventually Derek calms and they lay there quietly and Stiles lifts his fist towards his chest making sure the other man can see when he unclenches his stiff fingers and from them dangles the bracelet.  A friendship bracelet with a diamond pattern of red, blue and black and at the end of the band where it ties off is the green stone which now looks black in the twilight.

 

“Do you remember you gave me this bracelet for my 13th birthday?  Tied it onto my wrist yourself.”  Derek’s head tilts up from where it rests on his shoulder, his eyes glitter hotly in the gathering shadows and he lifts up onto one elbow to look down into Stiles’ face.  “I remember it too.”  Stiles says softly. 

 

Derek is so still for the longest time that Stiles almost wonders if its all been too much for his werewolf **_lover_**.  A shiver chases down his spine as he remembers **_that_** particular night around his 16 th birthday which changed the way he looked at Derek forever.  Not just boyfriends, but lovers too.

 

“Stiles?”  He can hear the question in Derek’s rumbling tone and knows what his mate is asking.

 

“I remember it all.”  Stiles looks up into eyes that start to glow red and gold and can feel his own respond and change to match.  “Put it back on for me, please.”

 

Stiles holds out the bracelet towards his mate who sucks in a loud sharp breath as he takes it, holding it stretched out between both hands.  Derek looks down at it for the longest time and Stiles sees that as each second ticks by the slight tremor in his fingers is growing until it is outright shaking of his entire hands. 

 

Stiles holds his arm out towards Derek and cries out brokenly when the other man lowers his head and starts to suckle and nibble each sensitive fingertip in turn before pressing a hot wet open mouthed kiss to the middle of his palm.  He nips and bites the fleshy mound below Stiles’ thumb before sweeping down to lick the delicate, thinner skin of his wrist where his pulse throbs wildly.

 

Sliding the bracelet over his trembling fingers until it sits at his wrist, Derek’s focus is so intent on tying off the ends that Stiles can barely control the urge to throw himself at his mate.  When he’s finished Stiles looks at the bracelet and sighs out loud.. it feels so right having it back where it belongs, resting on his skin.  Meeting Derek’s glowing eyes Stiles smiles in pure happiness.

 

“Thank you.”  He rasps out huskily, before lifting his head to brush his lips against his mate’s earning himself a rumbling growl of approval.

 

Derek reaches down as he rises to his knees and hauls him up into his arms, drawing him in between his splayed muscular thighs and Stiles can feel the pricks of his mate’s claws where he’s holding him against his chest so tight.  Can feel Derek’s throbbing erection as it presses into his belly.  Heat slams into him and his own cock is heavy and engorged, tenting out the front of his pants.

 

_‘Mine.. mine.. my mate..need you so bad Stiles..’_

 

Derek’s face shifts into his beta one of pointed ears, heavy brow and glinting fangs as he tilts his head back and roars.   It’s the sound of a primal force of nature, a werewolf triumphant.. secure with its mate at its side.  The cry travels across the rapidly approaching night and when he hears the howls and roars in response Stiles can only turn his head to look over his shoulder at the twinkling lights spread below them in wonderment.  One.. two close together and then a third.  Laura and Scott definitely, but the third?  Unless there’s another werewolf in Beacon Hills at this moment it has to be Peter.  Peter answering Derek like a pack member.

 

Stiles doesn’t want to think about Peter or anyone else.. not while he’s in his mate’s strong arms.  Raising his hands he threads his fingers through the sideburns that have sprouted along Derek’s cheeks and jawline and gently tugs on the surprisingly soft strands drawing Derek’s attention back to him.

 

“Thank you for all my gifts over the years.. the rookie card, the birthday card and the rest..”  He lifts up on his knees and presses his mouth to Derek’s right cheek. 

 

“Thank you for protecting me.. getting Greenberg to confess.. from yourself on a full moon when I was stupid..”  He moves his mouth to Derek’s left cheek and presses a kiss there and can hear the beginnings of a loud rumbling noise coming from deep within Derek’s chest. 

 

“Thank you for loving me.. and not giving up when I couldn’t remember..”  He kisses Derek’s chin and can feel Derek’s claws holding him flex and clutch at him.. one on his hip and the other in between his shoulder blades drawing him in tight. 

 

“Thank you.”

 

Stiles looks deeply into his mate’s eyes as he presses his lips to Derek’s and lets his tongue slide into his wolf’s mouth when he parts his lips on an aching sigh.  He curls his tongue around a large canine and pushes against it delighting in the growl of hunger that it provokes.  The burst of copper in his mouth makes him shudder as he tastes his own blood from his lip where Derek’s fang has nicked him.  Derek pushes him down onto his back and slots in between Stiles’ spread thighs, his thick erection pressing against him and he begins to grind, slow and heavy.  The noises his wolf makes, the growls and occasional whines as he rubs against him has his dick throbbing violently.

 

_‘God Stiles.. you feel so good.. so good..’_

 

Stiles is dazzled, if he looks straight up at the sky he can see the dark blue of twilight gradually deepen to a near black studded by stars that seem to flicker off and on before becoming a permanent light in the sky.  However, with the slope of the rock, Stiles only has to tilt his head a fraction and he’s looking upside down at the brightly lit sprawl of Beacon Hills behind him.

 

He feels dizzy.   Doesn’t know if it’s from the upside down view he has of the lights behind him or from the pure want that streaks through his veins, burning like fire as he pants heavily.. chest heaving.

 

_‘Derek I need you.. need my Alpha..’_

_‘Am I your Alpha?.. Am I your mate?’_  

_‘Yessss… God yes..’_

 

“Stiles..”  The sound of his name as a gravelly rasp and the fiery trail of Derek running his face over his throat and down his chest, chasing his scent, has him rolling his hips wantonly trying to find the perfect pressure against his aching cock. 

 

With trembling determined hands Derek pushes up Stiles’ cotton t-shirt to his armpits to reveal his chest and belly under the darkening sky.  When his mate drags his tongue over his stomach, the flickering wet heat of it has Stiles gasping and convulsing, trying to draw his knees up to his belly almost protectively, only the large, broad hands holding his hips prevent it.

 

“Derek.. my God.. please..”  Stiles tips his head further and further back as Derek goes lower and lower on his groin.  With his back arched and the lights of the town behind him Stiles flinches when he sees the big fat circle begin it’s rise into the night sky and begins to flail desperately.  His memories are back and one comes to the fore at that sight.  “Derek.. Derek stop.. it’s the full moon tonight.  We can’t.. you have to stop.. you’ll hate me.. if you lose control.."

 

“I’ll never hate you.. only love you.. love you..”  Derek nips the skin that covers his hipbone, his burning eyes looking up at him from under a thick fringe of lashes and Stiles feels lost at that stark look of pure need.  Derek is pinning him harder and stopping his struggles effortlessly, before growling out.  “I’m an Alpha now.. I’ve got more control than before.  I won’t hurt you.  I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, but I need you Stiles.. need you so bad.  So many times I thought I’ve lost you over the past couple of days and.. I can’t.. can’t be without you.  Not tonight.”

 

_‘You’ve never hurt me..’_

 

_‘Can’t stop.. just can’t.. don’t ask it of me.. please Stiles..’_

 

Stiles can feel his anxiety fall away and reaches out and places his hand on the top of Derek’s head, threads his fingers through that silky hair and presses.. presses that beautiful mouth harder against his flesh.  His stomach muscles contracting wildly. 

 

“Don’t stop then..  I don’t want you to stop.  Ever.”  He meant for it to come out firm and controlled, but instead Stiles can hear the light breathy tone that asks.. begs for more.   When he feels the tug on the button of his pants and then the ear-shattering sound of his zipper being pulled downwards Stiles wonders momentarily if he’s maybe the asthmatic one out of his bro-ship with Scott.. the way he’s wheezing and breathing hard and fast trying to suck in air into his starving lungs gives every indication that maybe he should have an inhaler on hand all the time.  Derek has him so frequently panting and breathless with need.

 

Cool air sweeps over the exposed flesh as Derek pulls his pants wide open and he can feel his engorged cock jerk in helpless reaction.  Derek is so very still as he stares at Stiles’ groin.  He looks like a statue until his eyes flicker up to look at Stiles’ face and he can see that they are blazing red and gold so brightly it’s like looking into the heart of the sun.  There is a sound that Derek’s making, it’s a confusing mix of a human groan of desire and a wolf’s keening cry of desperate hunger and for the life of him he couldn’t say which was more dominant.  Derek sounds like he’s being torn apart equally by the demands of man and wolf.

 

“No underwear..”  Derek’s voice is barely recognisable.. barely understandable and Stiles can only shiver beneath him at the rasping grating rumble of his Alpha Mate. 

 

“All day you’ve been like this?  Bare.”  He can feel the lightest, daintiest touch against the trail of hair that runs from his belly button and down into the nest of hair that surrounds his swollen dick.  A tremor shoots through him when he realises that it’s a claw.  Derek’s claw.  And it’s ruffling through the small hairs of his groin.

 

Stiles nods at him numbly.. for once in his life unable to speak.  He can feel a change in the very air around him.. it’s thick and heavy, pressing down on him and the heat.. dear God the heat he can feel rolling off Derek.  Rivulets of sweat trickle from his hairline, down his sides and his skin feels slick and feverish.  He burns.

 

“Shouldn’t make any difference..”  Derek begins hoarsely.  “But.. if I’d known..”  His fingers grip Stiles’ hips tighter.  Bruising.  The promise in his words and in his eyes tells Stiles that he would’ve been feeling the weight of a male Alpha werewolf pressing him to the ground. 

 

Reaching down with one hand Stiles drags his fingertips over Derek’s lips, delights in feeling the way his flesh slightly bulges outward from the pressure of his fangs being contained in his mouth.  Back and forth he rubs over them until Derek parts his lips on a high pitched whine and sucks Stiles’ forefinger and middle finger into his mouth.  Stiles cries out at the jolt of pure electricity that races through his body, making him arch and buck as he presses his fingers deeper into the warm, wet cavern of his mate’s mouth. 

 

Derek’s fangs scrape delicately along the skin on the outside of his fingers and Stiles shudders imagining that sensation against his aching cock.  The suction that Derek applies to his fingers makes him want to scream.. it’s too good and he wants more.. wants it on his dick.  Wants to feel that strong, supple tongue probe and push into the slit of his cock even as he feels it against the webbing between his fingers and.. holy shit.. it feels so fucking hot, is this one of those erogenous zones he’s read about, he thought he’d remembered them all.. who the hell knew that?  Why didn’t he know that.. he’s a god damn research fiend after all?

 

“Derek..”  Stiles calls out his name.. wails it to the night sky.  This urgency that beats within him, feels like he’s gonna die from it.  It’s too much to be borne.  “Please.. please..”  He begs.   

 

_‘Can I..?  You’re so beautiful.. I need to taste you..’_

_‘Are you nuts.. yes.. yes.. do it.. do whatever you want to me.. I want you to..’_

_‘Stiles you shouldn’t say that.. there’s so many things I want to do to you.. you have no idea..’_

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                       

Derek moves faster than Stiles’ eyes can track and before he knows it his pants are tugged halfway down his thighs and he has a beta-shifted werewolf licking at his cock and balls with such firm powerful strokes that Stiles is almost swallowing his own tongue in shock.  He’s bare from his chest down to mid-thigh, his flesh exposed to the rapidly cooling night air and the burning heat from his mate’s tongue which scorches him with every swipe and lick over his skin. 

 

Derek hunches over him straddling his lower legs, one hand stretched up to press against his chest, holding him down not that he had any intentions of going anywhere, the thrum of his frantically beating heart must surely be vibrating through it.  The prick of Derek’s claws near his peaked nipple draws out a strangled moan from his tight throat .  With the other he grips the base of Stiles’ cock and holds it firm and upright, clasped between his thumb and his fingers, razor sharp claws angled away from his flesh.

 

Wide-eyed Stiles lifts his head to look down the length of his body to see his mate flick him a darkly intense look before he drops his head down and suckles the leaking tip of his cock into his mouth.  He can only cry out in wonderment at the incredible heat and warmth that surrounds him.

 

The care with which Derek handles his cock in his fang-filled mouth is truly incredible.  The brush and swirl of his tongue over the desperately sensitive head has Stiles digging his fingers into the blanket beneath him and his hips lurching upwards, trying to thrust deeper into his mate’s mouth uncaring of being cut or torn by Derek’s teeth. 

 

_‘You taste so good.. gonna suck you dry.. swallow every drop..’_

_‘Oh my God.. you can’t just say that.. I.. I’ll never last if you..’_ Stiles whines.. Derek’s making him whine and.. and.. it’s too hot.. too fucking good to be borne and he’s going to explode if Derek keeps this up.

 

Derek moves his hand from pinning his chest down and Stiles can hear the lowering of a second zipper and that has him lifting his head up again and struggling to prop himself up on his elbows to see.  Fuck… fuck.. he can’t blink.. can’t close his eyes not for a moment and risk not seeing his mate fucking into his own fist, hard and fast even as his tongue lashes Stiles’ weeping cock.. he can see pre-come oozing out of the swollen head of Derek’s cock that’s quickly gathered up by his fingers and used to slick over the sensitive skin leaving it glistening in the moonlight.

 

 _‘Want you to come in my mouth..’_  

 

Stiles groans long and loud, he can feel his nuts drawing up tighter and tighter and knows he’s really, really not going to last much longer.  Wishes he could spread his legs wide open for his wolf but they are more or less bound together with the way his pants have been pushed down his thighs.

 

Derek dips his head and opens his mouth wide swallowing Stiles’ cock deep, letting the head brush against the back of his throat even as the tips of his canines press delicately into the thick base of it.  The threat to his sex sends blood rushing to Stiles’ groin even as his pulse thunders violently in his ears.  It’s not that which tips him over the edge into orgasm.. not the sensations his body is enjoying.

 

It’s hearing the slick sounds of engorged flesh being gripped tight and stroked hard, the little muffled noises that Derek makes with his mouth stuffed with Stiles’ cock which brings on the tingle at the base of his spine and it begins to grow and grow until a flashing burst of heat rips through his entire body, centred on his cock and balls.  There’s no time for him to warn his mate before his brain shuts down and his mouth hangs open, slack and loose as the pleasure strips him of the power of speech.

 

_‘Fuck Derek.. love you..’_

Derek moans around his pulsing shaft and the vibration intensifies his orgasm almost to the point of pain and Stiles can feel tears leaking from the corners of his eyes from where they are screwed up so tightly as he gives up all control of his body into Derek’s keeping.  Derek sucks and sucks drawing out every last drop of fluid from his satisfied flesh.

 

Just as he had promised.

 

Derek rears back onto his knees, releasing Stiles’ dick and licking at his lips as though savouring his mate’s most intimate flavours.   Stiles can only watch boneless and so very, very sated that if he relaxed any more he’d be a puddle.  Derek’s fucking into his fist hard and Stiles can see his balls slap and jiggle at the underside of his hand then less and less as they draw up tighter into his body.. preparing.

 

_‘Was gonna bite you.. mark you again.. but this.. uhhh yeah.. gonna mark you good baby.. let everyone know you’re mine..’_

With an echoing roar Derek pushes his hips forward violently for one final time.  The first hot stripe of come sprays across Stiles’ groin.. over his sac and softening cock.  The heat of it makes Stiles dick twitch valiantly.  Then load after load of Derek’s come in thick stripes hits his belly and chest and the knowledge that his mate is claiming him in the most primal and sexual of ways thrills him to the very core.. even if it does leave him wet and sticky. 

 

With both hands he starts to rub Derek’s come into his skin.. into his flesh, wanting to absorb it and he can hear Derek make an unintelligible choking noise as he watches him with burning eyes as he squeezes out the last drops onto his abdomen.

 

Derek collapses onto the blanket next to him and all he can hear is the thundering of his own heart as it tries to gallop out of his chest and their combined rasping breaths as they struggle to calm down. 

 

Rolling to his side towards his mate Stiles smiles dazedly at the other man as Derek rolls towards him too.  They lie on their sides, curled towards one another.. knees touching as do their foreheads and every so often their noses when Derek presses his now human lips against Stiles’ for sweet gentle kisses.

 

The look in his eyes and the small contented smile on Derek’s face has Stiles’ heart tripping over itself as he watches the other man.  Lifting his come covered hand to his face Stiles begins to lick and lave his fingers.. moaning in delight at the wild tart taste that bursts over his tongue.  Derek’s smile falters and he watches intently, a rumbling almost purr of satisfaction coming from his broad chest.

 

“Do you remember the first time I ever.. tasted you like this?”  He waits as Derek watches him heatedly before slowly nodding his head.  “You still taste good.”

 

“Stiles..”  Derek groans and leans forward to kiss him, letting his tongue slide into his mouth and they both moan at the taste of themselves in each other’s.  Stiles pulls back slightly and can feel warmth flood throughout his body and he looks at his hand and realises he’s glowing.  That wonderful golden light pouring out of him and into his mate and they both cry aloud as they feel the depth of emotion that they have for each other as it travels in an endless loop through them over and over.

 

Stiles feels like his chest is full to bursting with love for his mate and warmth radiates from Derek’s eyes and the wide beautiful smile that is just for Stiles alone.

 

“Do you remember.. you said that last time too?”  Stiles murmurs softly.

 

Derek nods.  “Are you going to ask me every time if I remember?”

 

“Uh huh..”  Seeing the slightly puzzled look on his mate’s face he continues.  “I need to be sure that they’re real memories.. that I’m not.. making them up.”

 

Derek nods again in understanding this time.

 

“Good, bad and everything in between.. I need to know they’re real, because it’s us.”

 

Derek reaches up and cups his face, his lips hovering over Stiles’. 

 

“Maybe the best thing I can do then is to give you new ones.. better ones.”  Derek presses his mouth to Stiles’ and it’s a lingering kiss of gentle lips and delicate licks and entwining tongues.. a slowly kindled fire is stoked between them and Stiles agrees whole heartedly with his mate.

 

They have a lifetime of memories to create and share together.

 

 

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his memories returned and intact, Stiles and Derek are leaving the woods when they face more confrontations than they ever expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for tylrhoechlns - because I've kept them waiting for such a long time. Thank you for your patience.
> 
> Here we are, another chapter and it's been so long, far too long. It was never ever my intention to leave it for such an extended period and I'm sorry if you may have thought it was abandoned, but now that I've finished "The healing touch" hopefully I will be able to devote more time to this one. 
> 
> My thanks to you all, it's been my good fortune to find this wonderful, supportive fandom and those who are quite willing to hitch their wagons to mine and see where I'm going with this all. Thank you.
> 
> ** There is a partial quote and reference to Dr Peter Venkman from the film "Ghostbusters".
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

The rising full moon lights up their way as Stiles and Derek walk back through the woods towards where they parked the Camaro earlier that day.  Derek’s holding his hand tight, his palm feels hot yet dry against his own clammy one and it feels like he’s not going to ever let go and Stiles smiles happily at the thought.  Yeah he could live with that.. Derek never letting him go.

 

Stumbling over the uneven ground, he practically faceplants into Derek’s back, clutching at his jacket awkwardly to keep himself upright, his treasure box tucked under his arm.  He shrugs in silent apology as Derek looks back at him with a frown.  The moonlight is so brilliant that he can see clearly the expressions that cross the other man’s face.  It suits him, the silvery light painting shadows across his features, highlighting how beautiful the wolf is.  He could gaze upon that face forever.

 

“I can’t help it… you’re so pretty I can’t look at anything else.”  He chuckles happily at the raised eyebrows that comment receives and laughs even harder when he hears the disdainful snort that Derek makes, but not before he sees the curving uptick of the corner of his mate’s mouth before he turns away.

 

Stiles looks up into the cloudless night sky.  The moon hangs fat and heavy, so close that he feels like he could reach up and touch it.  That something so beautiful could also be so potentially deadly makes him shiver and his mind wanders to his pack mates.

 

“Will Scott be okay?”  Stiles whispers the words.  Somehow out here amongst these ancient trees, their shadows casting long and dark under the moonlight, it feels all too easy to believe that they are listening.  That they can influence those around them.

 

Derek stops and looks down at him and tightens his hold, threads their fingers together.  His face is all too serious and Stiles is torn as he feels a flicker of fear ripple through his gut even as the warmth of his hand is comforting.

 

“Laura said he was hanging on so far, but she also said to get our asses there quicksmart."  Stiles smiles faintly, that definitely sounds like Laura.  "It won’t be easy, but with his pack around him.. hopefully we can ground him enough that he can control himself.”

 

The fingers that are tangled with his own tighten and Stiles can feel how tense Derek is.  “What is it?”

 

There’s more, something that Derek isn’t telling him.  He can sense it.  With a huffing sigh, Derek tries for a reassuring smile but Stiles can see clearly in the moonlight that his eyes are worried. 

 

“The first moon can be pretty hard on the bitten.”  Derek leans in, looking directly at him with glittering eyes.  “Hell, you’ve seen firsthand what it can do to the wolf born.” 

 

Stiles knows what he’s referring to and his mind flits to Derek crouching in the corner of his bedroom, rocking back and forth on his heels, a look in his eyes so feral and wild that even now the memory sends shivers down his spine at how Derek had looked so ready to pounce on him, ready to devour him.  He swallows hard.

 

“It can draw out our most primal selves.. Scott may not be as you know him.  Harder, more confident.. overly so.  He’ll be dangerous because his instincts will be telling him that he’s further up the chain.”

 

“The chain?”  Stiles asks, can feel worry furrows digging deep into his forehead.

 

“The food chain Stiles.  Humans.  He’ll look at humans as prey.”  Derek pauses and looks at him speculatively.  “Not you though.  You’re my mate.  An Alpha mate and he should recognise your authority.”

 

Derek’s eyes shine with red and gold flames.  “Should, but let’s not test it.  I’m not sure I could control myself if he hurt you.”

 

Stiles can feel his stomach literally plummet to his very feet.  He feels sick.  He can’t imagine his best friend being so ruthless.  Not his sweet, lovable Scott and what was worse this was all his fault.  If he hadn’t dragged him out to the woods that night, that terrible, terrible night, then Scott would never have been bitten.  Would never be at the mercy of the moon right now.

 

“Hey.”  Derek draws him into a comforting embrace.  Stiles presses his face into the crook of Derek’s neck, loops his free arm around the other man’s waist and just leans into his mate’s strength.  _‘It’s not your fault.’_

_‘Stop listening in to my head.’_   Stiles pulls back and scowls at the older man, grips his treasure box tighter in his other arm even as he feels Derek’s hands slide down his back and rest on his hips not letting him move away.

 

“I didn’t.. it was all over your face.”  Stiles can hear the truth in Derek’s voice and even if he hadn’t he knows that he doesn’t have a poker face, not with Derek, he can’t control his emotions around the other man.

 

He leans in and presses his mouth to Stiles’ in comfort and moans in delight when Stiles can’t resist and licks his full lower lip and pushes his pelvis against him.   Stiles lets his hand slide down from his wolf’s waist and cups a tight ass cheek, squeezing possessively.  He can feel Derek’s hands flex and clutch, gripping his hips tighter. Jerking his head back Derek growls softly, his eyes brilliant crimson in the night shadows.

 

“Don’t you know not to pull on a wolf’s tail?”  He says between harsh breaths.

 

“It’s not a tail I want to pull on.. anyway I thought it was a tiger’s tail.”  Stiles smirks at the huff of disdain that Derek gives as he rolls his eyes.

 

“Please.. no tabby cat can compare to a wolf.”  

 

“Ugh.. corny sourwolf, corny.”  Stiles lets himself be pulled along by Derek’s fingers entwining with his.  The feel of Derek’s skin is pure pleasure, sending sparks racing through his nervous system.  He can remember the first time their fingers brushed together and the memory is a sweet relief that he can even recall it.  What makes it even better now is the knowledge that it feels so good, so damn right a hundred times.. no a thousand times better than that very first time. 

 

The things they’ve gone through to get to this point.  To the here and now of being together.  It blows his mind when he thinks about it.  Shaking his head he tries to clear his mind, which is nearly impossible with the amount of thoughts that are crashing around in there.  With his head feeling full to overflowing and that he just might very well shatter, Stiles looks to the man that currently holds his hand so gently like he’s something precious and a feeling of such strength and safety wraps around him that the pressure almost instantly eases. 

 

They walk into the clearing where the black Camaro sits, its lean lines and hungry curves gleaming under the moonlight.  It’s not alone.  Another vehicle sits behind it, effectively blocking them in. 

 

Stiles can feel his heart jump another gear, start to race when he recognises his Dad’s SUV, the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department crest all too clear on the side.  Derek lightly squeezes his hand in reassurance.  It helps a bit.  Instead of throwing up violently onto his shoes he merely swallows down the vile taste of bile that has risen to burn acidly in his throat and mouth.

 

Moving closer he realises it’s empty.  Derek’s obviously aware of something he’s not when he almost reluctantly it seems lets go of his hand and slowly lifts his hands into the air.  Turning Stiles sees his Dad move out of the shelter of the trees that edge the clearing.  His hand is raised in front of him, gun trained on Derek’s back.  Stiles moves instinctively to stand between them.

 

“Get out of the way Stiles.”  His Dad grinds out harshly.

 

“NO.”  Stiles can feel Derek turn around slowly behind him, hands still raised, obviously not wanting to startle the man holding the gun. 

 

“Stiles get behind me.”  Derek says.  Stiles looks at him over his shoulder and narrows his eyes making sure his wolf knows his displeasure at being ordered around.

 

 _‘Please.’_   Stiles shakes his head at Derek’s plea through the mate bond.

 

“I’m pretty sure my Dad’s not going to shoot me Derek.”  Stiles bites out before turning to his Dad.  “Yesterday I would’ve been a hundred percent positive about that, today..”  He waggles his hand, emphasizing his doubt.

 

His Dad sucks in a sharp breath and his face goes even tauter than it was before, if that’s even possible.  His gun hand remains steady.

 

“No matter what, you’re my son Stiles.  I would never hurt you.”  He rasps out.

 

“Just Derek.  Right?”  Stiles steps forward.  “That’s not going to happen.  I’ve got my memories back now and whatever you think you know Dad, you don’t really.  You don’t know the things he’s done for me, how he’s taken care of me.. of us.”  He pauses for one moment and involuntarily rubs his ribs, his mind tricking his body into reliving the pain that he’d once felt there. 

 

“You always wondered about Greenberg’s confession.”  Stiles tilts his head towards Derek giving his Dad the answer he’s been looking for.

 

The gun wavers momentarily. 

 

“He took advantage of you.”  His Dad insists, confusion crossing his face before it sets into the Stilinksi pig-headed stubbornness that Stiles recognises sometimes when he stands in front of a mirror and he wants to scream in frustration.

 

“Yeah, that’s right Dad.. a 16 year old boy who’s just come out of a coma and lost his entire family took advantage of a 10 year old boy whose mother was dying.”  He snarls angrily, bitterness coating his words.

 

“Don’t you get it, we were both in pain, both suffering and we found each other.”  Stiles feels Derek’s hand on his shoulder then, the weight is comforting and he can feel the warmth through his shirt.

 

“Derek knew then that we were mates, but he has always, always tried to do the right thing by me even when I’ve—“  He stops, a flush of heat rising to his face.  Now that he has his memories he realises exactly how much Derek’s had to endure, from his first naïve attempts to get closer to the older boy to outright plans of seduction.

 

“I can imagine and I wish I couldn’t.”  His Dad mutters.

 

_‘There’s someone else here Stiles, it’s strange I can’t scent them.. like it’s been masked, but I can hear an extra heartbeat.’_

Stiles looks around the moonlit clearing and if he hadn’t been told there’s no way he would’ve seen the dark shape that has blended with the trees.

 

“Come out.”  Stiles calls to the figure which slowly begins to move into the moonlight.  His Dad looks startled for one revealing moment before his face goes carefully neutral. 

 

_‘He didn’t know there was someone else here.’_

_‘I could tell, your Dad’s pulse skyrocketed then.’_

It’s a man.  Dressed in black fatigues about his Dad’s age at a guess, the moonlight picks out silver threads in his close cropped almost military styled haircut, contrasted by the light stubble that covers his jawline.  He’s slender, doesn’t carry any excess weight, but he looks strong and wiry.  There’s a confident, calm air about him that screams of authority and Stiles can tell he’s used to giving orders. 

 

The stock of a shotgun is visible from where it’s strapped to his back, a gun holster sits low on each thigh and he’s carrying a crossbow.  Stiles doesn’t doubt for an instant that he’s carrying more weapons out of sight.  The crossbow looks like it’s been dipped in black paint, not a single part of it reflects any light whatsoever and that deliberate camouflage sends alarm bells ringing in the back of Stiles’ mind.  Loudly.  That it’s trained on Derek as intently as the man’s eyes are, steady and unwavering, makes Stiles’ scalp prickle with fear and unease.

 

“Argent?”  His Dad says, puzzlement across his face and in his tone.

 

“Sheriff.”  The other man’s voice is clipped and assertive.

 

_‘Holy shit.. Argent. Is that..’_

_‘Yes.  Chris Argent.  They’ve obviously settled here earlier than Laura expected.’_   There is a tone to Derek’s thoughts, a cold, desolate one that he’s never heard from his wolf before and it sends shivers down Stiles’ spine.  He’s glad it’s not directed towards him.  Stiles’ hand reaches out and blindly searches and finds Derek’s, clutching at it so tightly he’s surprised that the bones don’t grind beneath his fingers.

 

“Heard on the scanner you were having a problem.  Thought maybe I could help out.”  His words are directed to Stiles’ Dad but what scares Stiles the most is that his eyes never leave their target.  They’re fixed on Derek so intently he’s not sure the other man’s even blinked.  “I have experience in these matters.”

 

“Don’t listen to him Dad.”  Stiles can hear the fear in his voice, can see the way his Dad is observing all of them and yet still has his gun fixed onto Derek.

 

“Kidnapping.  A violation of local, state and federal laws, not to mention another number of codes.”  Argent says and Stiles can feel Derek stiffen next to him.

 

_‘Codes?’_

_‘Hunter’s supposedly follow a code to protect the innocent, human and werewolf alike.’_ There’s a bitter edge to Derek’s thoughts.

 

Stiles looks back and forth between the two armed men.  The tension in the clearing is rising, Stiles can feel it pressing against his body, grating against his nerves.

 

“Derek did not kidnap me, he didn’t break any laws or.. or any codes.  I asked him to take me away from the hospital and from you Dad, so I could think.” 

 

“Think about what?  How he’s made you his mate?  Turned you away from your family?”  The words cut like knives and Stiles drags in a hitching breath to try and calm himself from the raging torrent of emotion that threatens to burst out of him.  The power itches beneath his skin.  Only he’s not too sure what colour it would be if he let it out and at the moment all of his instincts are recognising both of the older men as threats.  More specifically threats to his mate and he would do anything to protect Derek.  Anything.

 

“You’ve claimed him?  He’s a kid.”  Argent yells.  “For God’s sake Stilinski, my daughter’s about the same age and I’d rather her dead than be mated to a monster.”

 

Derek roars in fury, his features shifting, his eyes glowing as he turns to Stiles.

 

_‘Monster.. she called me a monster too.  I’m not.. you don’t..”_

_‘NO.  You’re my mate, don’t you ever think of yourself like that.  Kate is the fucking monster.’_

 

Stiles turns wrathful eyes upon the hunter can feel the tingle in his fingertips as power seeps out of him ready to lay waste to their enemies.  When he sees the muscles in Argent’s shoulders tighten, the finger on the crossbow trigger shift a fraction and the fear that he’s going to witness his mate being cut down right in front of him has him crying out.  He doesn’t know if he’d be quick enough to stop a crossbow bolt, one that’s more likely than not loaded with wolfsbane.  He can’t risk it.  Can’t risk him.

 

“You know the code Hale.  Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent.”

 

Stiles looks helplessly at Derek, it sounds like French, but he can't be sure.

 

 _‘We hunt those who hunt us.’_   Derek translates and there’s such rage and fear coming through the bond between he and his wolf that it overwhelms him and he turns to his Dad with the Argent code echoing in his head.  Desperate.

 

“Dad.. if you have any faith left in me at all, any trust, I’m begging you.. please, please don’t let him do this.  He’s a hunter.  He kills werewolves.. his sister killed Derek’s family, don’t let him do this or you may as well kill me too.”  His voice breaks as he looks deep into his Dad’s eyes and wills him to believe. 

 

For a long agonizing moment he feels his heart start to crack when his Dad is so still and unmoving, his face carved from stone.  Then almost unbelievably his Dad swings his arm around so that his gun is pointed at Chris Argent’s head and Stiles lets out the breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding.

 

“I think you should drop your weapon.  Now.”  For the first time Argent’s eyes flicker from Derek across to his Dad.  He doesn’t know what they see in each other’s expression, but it’s enough for Argent to gently place his crossbow on the ground.  A true soldier taking care of his weapon.

 

“My sister did not kill the Hale pack.”  Argent grinds out harshly.

 

“You’re telling me she follows the code to the letter.”  Stiles spits out and sees Argent’s eyes drop to the ground and the older man’s lips press together in a thin line. 

 

“Hah.. That’s what I thought.  She doesn’t follow any code or any law.. seducing a 16 year old boy and murdering his family.  Men, women and children gone.”

 

Argent’s eyes go wide and flash to Derek who stands beside him quivering with an overload of emotion.

 

“She wouldn’t.”  He shakes his head furiously.

 

Stiles snorts derisively, a curiously painful satisfaction rising when he sees the doubt cross over the other man’s features.

 

“She did.  She used me and I let her and my family paid the price.”  Derek growls.  Breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling rapidly with his agitation. 

 

 _‘Derek.’_   God, how he aches for him.  For all the pain he’s suffered.  Stiles tightens his hand around the strong, solid one of his mate and opens a trickle of his energy, his power fuelled by deep emotions of love and caring, and lets it flow through their bond into his wolf.  The wired tension that had been wound up so very tightly in Derek uncoils in a slow release and his wolf sighs, his breathing easier and no longer the laboured huffs of an enraged bull.

 

_‘I’m okay.. it’s just hard being near him..’_

He stifles a moan as Derek’s thumb sweeps over the back of his hand and where he touches lightning follows, the nerve endings under the surface of his skin sparking at the electricity that is always there whenever they touch.  Stiles’ blood is thrumming through his veins, the adrenalin spiking high and wild.

 

 _‘Stiles..’_   Derek’s longing filters through the mate bond and Stiles shivers.  It’s so not the time or place, but he can’t help it because he wants it so bad, lets it wash over him in a rush.

 

They could be statues, so still and quiet, each of them seemingly absorbing what’s been said with palpable concentration.  The rustle of leaves from the gentle night breeze is the only sound in the clearing, Stiles can feel the air brush over his skin like a caress leaving goosebumps in its wake.  The earthy, wild scent of the woods fills his nose and it reminds him so powerfully of Derek it’s like breathing him in, taking a deep lungful he savours it and can feel Derek move closer to him and press his shoulder against his. 

 

“I expect to see you in the station tomorrow morning with all your permits for these weapons.”  Stiles’ Dad says eventually breaking the silence.  “It would be best if you head home now.”

 

“You’ve already seen my permits and licenses.”  Argent scowls fiercely.

 

“When an arms dealer moves into my town Mr Argent, I like to be thorough.  Don’t want to miss anything, even if it requires a double check or even a third or a fourth.”  The hunter grimaces at the threat. 

 

“Tomorrow morning.  First thing.”  His Dad repeats with a noticeable chill in his tone.

 

With the barest hint of acknowledgement, Argent bends over to pick up his crossbow.

 

“Leave it.  You can pick it up from the station tomorrow.” 

 

Argent immediately stops and slowly stands back up, his hands empty.  “I hope you don’t regret this Sheriff.  My offer of assistance still stands.”

 

“I have lots of regrets, I won't be adding this to the list.”  His Dad says grimly.

 

 The hunter doesn’t say a word as he slowly steps back into the shadows and disappears from sight. 

 

Stiles looks to Derek. 

 

His wolf nods.  “He’s gone.”

 

“Thank—“  Stiles begins but is cut off by an abrupt wave of the hand from his Dad as he holsters his gun. 

 

“Don’t.”  He says, lifting his hand and rubbing the back of his neck.  “You and I need to have a talk.”

 

“Yes we do.”  Stiles says firmly and sees for the minutest fraction of a second that his Dad’s hand stills in surprise that he agrees so readily.  “But, we need to see that Scott’s okay.”

 

He holds his Dad’s gaze steadily and the relief that rushes through him when the other man nods in agreement is almost overwhelming and his knees feel a little bit weak and his belly churns.  He grips Derek’s arm for support as he turns away.

 

“Stiles.”  He glances back over his shoulder and there’s a look on his Dad’s face and it’s not one he can interpret.  “Would you ride with me?”

 

He’s about to refuse when he hears his Dad say softly “Please.”

 

Something twists painfully in his chest and he turns back to Derek, his wolf, his mate and raises his eyebrows.

 

_‘I think I should.’_

_‘I’ll be right behind you. Okay.’_

 

Stiles nods silently at his Dad and is surprised to hear a little noise, almost a sound of relief from the older man.  His Dad picks up the crossbow and moves to the rear of the SUV.  Stiles pushes his treasure box towards his wolf and sees that he’s startled him.

 

_‘Look after it for me please.’_

_‘Stiles..’_   Stunning eyes that mix moonlight and colours that are unnameable lock with his as he takes the box and there’s such a depth of emotion within them and Stiles knows that Derek gets it.  He knows his mate understands when he says in that surprisingly soft voice of his that gets Stiles in the chest everytime.  “Thank you.”

_‘I trust you.’_   There’s not many people on this earth that he does, but he needs the wolf to know that he’s one of them.  Derek’s eyes drop to Stiles’ mouth and he puffs out a long breath between barely parted lips.

 

 _‘I want to kiss you so bad.’_   Derek smoulders, eyes dark and face taut, his breathing getting harder and faster as Stiles watches.  He’s a banked fire about to burst into fiery flames and Stiles is standing directly in its path.

Heat pools in Stiles’ groin quick and urgent.  Stiles lifts his hand to his own mouth and presses his fingers against his lips tight to stop their tremulous movement.  _‘Please.. stop.. if my Dad wasn’t here.. damn it, I don’t want to push him.’_

Derek takes a deep, shuddering breath and reluctantly it seems, by the way his feet drag, steps back.

_‘I know, it’s okay.’_

 

Stiles walks to the passenger side of the SUV and smiles faintly at Derek as he slides into the Camaro with fluid ease.  His supple hips, powerful thighs and tight ass makes Stiles groan softly under his breath, his groin twitching in appreciation as he recalls exactly what’s under the denim. 

 

 _‘Stop that.  Don’t be naughty baby, you’re not making it easy for me to drive’_  

_‘Huh.’_   Stiles’ brain doesn’t seem to be functioning because he can’t work out what the hell his mate is getting at.

_‘There’s a part of me that’s finding it real **hard** to see you go.’_

_‘Derek.’_ Shocked and kinda turned on that his mate has just admitted to having a hard on from his unruly thoughts, a rush of heat sweeps over Stiles’ face as he looks to the muscle car. 

 

 _‘Whose fault is that?  Wearing jeans so damn tight they just cling..and do the cupping thing and.. and..’_   He sighs and surrenders.  _‘You’re never throwing that pair out.’_

He can feel Derek’s amusement through the bond and he doesn’t bother to hide his smile, not even when his Dad gets in after securely stowing the crossbow in the SUV’s cargo area and gives him an all too familiar look of exasperation.  It almost feels normal. 

 

Sitting in the passenger seat Stiles buckles in as his Dad starts the vehicle and drives it out of the clearing.  Leaning slightly forward, his Dad picks up the radio mike clipped to the dash and calls off the alert for a 2010 black Chevy Camaro.  Stiles watches in the side mirror as that same vehicle reverses and swings into place behind the SUV.

 

His Dad doesn’t speak as they drive down the bumpy track through the woods, but it’s not quiet in the vehicle with the police radio switched on and hearing the communications between officers in the field and dispatch.  The Department’s been such a big part of his life that it’s kinda soothing, like a favourite song playing in the background only it’s static and sirens, sometimes tense voices sometimes not.  He smiles faintly when he hears Trudy directing an officer to a minor fender bender on Taylor Street, she sounds so cool and in control when her kids aren’t being threatened by out of control dogs. 

 

His Dad doesn’t say a word until they reach the black tarmac of the main road that leads back to town. 

 

“So you’ve got your memory back?”  He asks as he looks up and down it for oncoming traffic before he turns heading towards downtown Beacon Hills.  Stiles’ eyes flicker to the side mirror and he sees the head lights of the Camaro follow and he relaxes slightly knowing that his mate isn’t too far away.  It had crossed his mind that his Dad might’ve intended to take him away, to kidnap him exactly like what he’d accused Derek of doing, but he’s driving steadily allowing the Camaro to easily keep up.

 

“Yep.”  He lets the ‘p’ pop as he watches his Dad’s face as he concentrates on driving.  “All of them.”

 

His Dad nods his head in understanding.  At least Stiles hopes he really does understand, he never wants to argue with his Dad like he did in the hospital again.  Now that he’s calmer, he can sorta get what his Dad was trying to say back there, that without his memories of he and Derek together how could he truly say what sort of man his wolf was.  How can he explain that it’s intuitive, that a part of himself just knew, if you’ve never experienced it.

 

“We’ve got twenty minutes until we reach the McCall’s.  How about you give me the Reader’s Digest version of the last six years?”  His Dad’s talking in a curiously neutral voice.  Slightly strained as though he’s trying really, really hard not to yell and Stiles appreciates that.  He really does.  He doesn’t work well with yelling, it gets his back up and then he’s retaliating with sarcasm because it’s his weapon of choice and then it gets really ugly.. human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together.. mass hysteria type ugly.  He could quote Venkman for eternity and it still wouldn’t get old.

 

So he talks.  Talks until his throat gets dry and starts to get scratchy.  Talks about being inside Derek’s comatose mind, talks about how scary the pack and Kate had been there.  A few times he thinks his Dad’s going to interrupt, but he seems to squash the impulse down and merely nods at him to keep going.  He chokes back laughter when he hears how Stiles’ Mom had beat the snot out of imaginary Kate, he nods his head in approval, laugh lines crinkle at the outside corners of his eyes and Stiles can feel a warmth pulsing in his chest at the sight.

 

He turns more serious again when he listens to how his son was meeting a teenage werewolf for every birthday since he was 10.  Stiles talks about how he realised his feelings were more than friendship for the wolf, how he’d fallen in love with him and discovered Derek loved him too.  Emphasizing that Derek’s made it quite clear that there are boundaries and that the wolf tried to respect his need to be a child and to grow up normally without a territorial mate hovering over him every second of the day. 

 

The dashboard throws up enough light onto his Dad’s face that he can see those piercing blue eyes flick over at him, weighing up what he’s saying.  His jaw is tight and bulging slightly and Stiles thinks maybe there’s some serious grinding and gnashing of teeth beneath the outward veneer of calm.

 

“Dad.”  He says softly.

 

“I’m trying Stiles.. I’m really trying.  I don’t want to drive you away, but I’m really struggling with the idea that he dragged you into a sexual relationship when you were so young.” 

 

“No.  No.  He didn't.  We’ve not.. Dad I’m still a virgin.”  Stiles huffs out feeling awkwardly defensive and looking down at his hands that he’s linked together and are resting in his lap.  He knows that there’s different interpretations of virginity and its loss.  For some people it’s any type of sexual activity with another person, but when he considers it in regards to himself, Stiles knows that when he gives his virginity to Derek it will be because they are buried deep within each other, balls deep.  His belly flutters wildly at the thought and heat floods into his cheeks.

 

“He’s not tried to pressure—“  The sharp tone has him quickly interrupting.

 

“God no, in fact I’m the one pushing him.”  At the frown his Dad gives him then Stiles can only shrug sheepishly.  “It’s only been recently that we’ve been..uhm.. you know.  **_Stuff_**.”

 

There’s no way he’s going into detail about anything that they’ve been doing and he’s pretty sure that his Dad doesn’t particularly want to know the finer points anyway.  He just wants to reassure him that he knows what he’s doing and why.

 

“I’m 16 Dad, if I’d been going out with another boy or girl my age you wouldn’t have thought anything of me **_‘experimenting’_**.”  He waggles his eyebrows for emphasis.  “In fact I’m pretty sure you would’ve been telling me to make sure it’s consensual and stay safe before buying me condoms.”

 

The strong hands on the steering wheel tighten their grip and the skin at the knuckles goes pale as his Dad shifts in his seat and Stiles knows he’s scored a hit.

 

“Maybe.  But, I would know that you were **_‘experimenting’_** with kids your own age with **_‘stuff’_** and that you were meeting lots of different people..”  He coughs uncomfortably, eyes fixed on the road ahead.  “Not all for sex, but you’d be going out.. to parties and.. and mingling.”

 

Stiles looks at him with bemusement as he prepares to burst his parent’s optimistic bubble of delusion. 

 

“Dad.. hate to break it to you, but for one, I don’t’ mingle.  In fact, I’m the worst mingler that’s ever attempted mingling before.  Two, I’m not exactly at the top of the invite list for any of those parties that you more than likely would be raiding because the music’s too loud and the underage guests are drinking.”

 

The look his Dad gives him then is surprisingly flattering because Stiles can tell he’s shocked him somewhat.

 

“Oh.”  He takes a breath likes he’s going to say something more, but hesitates before eventually asking quietly.  “Does my job mean you don’t get invited?”

 

Sighing, Stiles looks out the passenger window and tries to peer through the darkness to what lies hidden amongst the trees that edge the road.  He only sees his own face reflected back in the glass.  Eyes shadowed and thumb pressed to his mouth so he can chew on the nail.  He could lie, but his Dad’s made it pretty clear in recent times that he doesn’t want the lies anymore, only the truth.

 

“Partly.”  He can hear his Dad let out a heavy puff of air as he turns back to him.  “Mostly it’s about me though.  I’m the Sheriff’s weird kid with the big mouth, with the ADHD and no filter.  Too smart, too geeky with not enough in the looks department or athletic ability to get away with it.”

 

“Stiles..”  His Dad sounds broken and it makes his chest hurt and his throat feel tight to hear it in the man he’s only ever wanted to feel pride in calling him ‘son’.

 

“It’s okay.  I don’t have many friends Dad, but the ones I do..”  He smiles fondly.  “They’re the best.  Scott, Derek and Laura.  I’d rather have them than go to any of these parties.”

 

“You count Derek as a friend?”  There’s a curious note to his Dad’s voice, even as he keeps his eyes trained on the road ahead of them.

 

Stiles is taken aback by the question.  “Of course.  He’s always been my friend Dad, right from the start.  Wasn’t Mom your friend too?”

 

He hears a quick drawn in breath before his Dad reaches across and grabs his hand, squeezing it tight.  His voice is thick with emotion.  “Yes.  Yes she was my best friend.”

 

Stiles hangs on, not wanting to let go and his Dad doesn’t seem to want to either as he drives the next 5 miles one-handed.  The warmth that he’d felt earlier blooms again within his chest and he can feel the surge of emotions coursing through him and with it rises his power and Stiles lets some of it seep out through his skin, only a fraction not wanting to blind his Dad while driving, and the cabin of the SUV is bathed in the soft glow. 

 

The SUV swerves slightly as his Dad flinches and tries to tug his hand away, Stiles doesn’t blame him, the only time he’s come into contact with his spark it’s been threatening rather than loving.  Stiles pours all the love he feels for the other man into that light.

 

“Oh my God, Stiles..  Stiles I can feel you.”  His Dad gives a hiccupping laugh even as his eyes glisten.  “I love you too son.”

 

“I can feel you too Dad.”  He can.  All the love and pride that his Dad feels for him as well as the fear he feels for him, the desperate longing to keep him safe.  Stiles basks in it, knowing that his Dad doesn’t hate him or fear him is like chains that have been wrapped around him are suddenly cast off and he’s lighter and freer than he’s been for a long time.  Wonders if it’s because he doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore, who he loves anymore.

 

Stiles relaxes back into his seat and draws the power back into himself as he tips his head back against the headrest.  The headlights pick out the lines marked on the road and he can see that they’ve reached the outskirts of Beacon Hills as buildings and lights appear out of the darkness.

 

“..415 reported at 18 Oak Lane..”

 

Trudy’s voice crackles through the scanner and snaps Stiles out of the languid haze that he’d fallen into while holding his Dad’s hand.  He sits up and looks across to his Dad who’s obviously heard it too.

 

“415.. a disturbance.”  Stiles can feel fear creep up his spine and scrape against the back of his neck until the hair stands on end, prickling over his scalp.  “Dad that’s..”

 

“I know, I know.. it’s Scott’s house.”  He flicks on the vehicle’s sirens and picks up the mike calling it in that the Sheriff’s unit will deal with this, no back up required.

 

As his Dad talks to dispatch Stiles looks over his shoulder and sees that Derek’s put his foot down too and is keeping pace with the speeding SUV.  Red and blue lights flicker over the front of the Camaro and if he squints Stiles thinks he can see two pinpoints of crimson and gold fixed on him from within the vehicle itself. 

 

Relief washes over him.  At least Derek will be with them when they get there.

 

The question is what will they find when they do?


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They arrive at the McCall house and the disturbance reported there is only the start of a long night for Stiles and the pack, one filled with an unexpected visitor and it changes everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind comments and for simply reading this work, it means a lot. :D
> 
> Unbeta'ed.

The McCall house looks outwardly calm when his Dad pulls the SUV into the driveway and Stiles peers at the familiar building through the front windscreen as if he can discern the nature of the ‘disturbance’ simply by looking.  It would make life so much easier if his spark or magic or whatever the hell you wanna call it could let him see through walls like Superman or something.  He resolves to ask about it with Deaton once he resumes his lessons with the Emissary and just hopes he doesn’t get laughed right out of the vet clinic.  He’d only use it for good.. most of the time, probably.

 

Of course that’s supposing that they all survive tonight intact.  He gnaws on his lower lip at the bleak thought.

 

This house has been such a big part of his life and he knows every inch of it intimately, feels comfortable here and always welcome.  Light shines from the windows and porch beckoning he and his Dad to enter and put their feet up and simply rest awhile in the home of their extended little family, like they have in the past for birthdays and the major holidays, like Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It’s like a beacon in the darkness, picture perfect or it would be except for the full moon that sits above it. 

 

As sappy as it sounded, even to him, the times they were apart Stiles had often watched the moon travel it’s course across the night sky appreciating its radiant beauty and wondering what Derek was doing beneath it's light wherever he was, but not tonight.  Tonight, it’s a looming threat that can’t be fought, negotiated with or diverted from its path because people he cares about, people he loves are directly affected by its power.  

 

The moon’s rays bathe both he and the house in its light and although he may be bonded to the pack, he’s not a wolf as such, although maybe being the mate of one means he can be influenced by it as well.  It’s definitely not his imagination that he can feel a tingle of power, very different to his own spark, a wild intoxicating impulsivity coursing through his veins, burrowing under his skin like an itch.  Maybe he’s merely one of those humans that feels it’s pull more powerfully than others.  Stiles has no doubt there would be any number of people who would happily declare him a lunatic. 

 

Hands flail helplessly at his seatbelt and it’s more by chance than intent that he happens to push against the buckle release and suddenly he’s free of restraint.  Opening the door, he pitches out of the car just barely managing to catch himself on the door frame and not fall to the ground and distantly hears his Dad say sharply “Stiles.. wait.”

 

Stiles waits.

 

Not because of his Dad’s command.  It’s how the quiet suburban evening is broken by a long howl followed swiftly by angry, vicious growling that gives him pause.  Two distinct sets of growling, Laura and Scott.  It echoes through the night, loud and eerie, and it doesn’t take much to figure out, from the shifting curtains in some of the front windows of the neighbouring houses, that these blood-curdling noises were the prompt to call 911. 

 

Stiles takes a step towards the house and is almost yanked back onto his ass by the hand that has grabbed hold of his arm and keeps him in place.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?”  Derek asks harshly, the tension visible in his taut jawline and the throbbing vein at his temple.  Stiles looks at him in surprise.  Over his mate’s broad shoulders he can see the Camaro’s pulled in behind the SUV, but he hadn’t heard or seen a thing so focused on the noises coming from the house in front of him.

 

“Ow.”  He scowls fiercely at his mate, eyes flicking pointedly between his arm and his mate’s burning Alpha eyes.  The pressure of Derek’s fingers eases slightly, but not the intensity with which he looks at him.

 

“Well?”  Derek insists bluntly and Stiles’ hackles go up.  He maybe his mate, but really?  Rude much.

 

“To help my friend.  Now let me go.”  He pulls against the werewolf’s strong grip and huffs in exasperation at the futile exercise.

 

“You stay here.”

 

“Best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”  His Dad says from his other side.  Jeez.  Again he asks, really?  They’re both ganging up on him and the flicker of approval he glimpses on his Dad’s face at Derek’s words is confusingly annoying and good all at the same time.

 

“I’m not staying here.”  Stiles spits out, suddenly furious at both of them and the alliance they seem to be forging.  Against him.  “We’re wasting time.  I’ll go in after you, but **_I am_** going in.  That’s my best friend in there.”

 

His Dad and his mate share a quick look and whatever silent communication there is between the two men is interrupted by a loud crash and another angry growl vibrating the glass in the front windows of the McCall House so fiercely, Stiles wonders how they don’t crack.   Fed up with their overprotectiveness Stiles flexes his magical muscle, lets a faint pulse of light start in the tips of his fingers.  The ground suddenly pitches beneath their feet and Derek and his Dad stagger slightly.  Derek clutches him tighter, doesn’t let go like he’s meant to.

 

“Oh come on.”  Stiles wails impatiently and pushes the little bit of power he’d drawn from the earth back into it and with a final press of his will has the driveway settle from where it had risen up unevenly so it lies flat and undisturbed.  Stiles isn’t a fool and there’s no way he wants Melissa McCall pissed off at him for damaging her property to prove a point.

 

“Okay.  You stay well back and behind me.”  Derek growls, his back a tight line of frustration as he drags him towards the house.

 

 _‘I mean it.’_   Derek sends through the bond as Stiles tries to surge forward.

 

 _‘Okay, alright.  I get it.  I’ll be a good little obedient mate and stay two paces behind you everywhere we go, just hurry up.’_    

Derek flashes red eyes at him over his shoulder in annoyed amusement. _‘Obedient?  As if.’_

 

They move up to the porch and the door swings open and Melissa is standing in the doorway framed by light.  One of the sleeves of her light blue scrubs is torn.  Thankfully, the white long sleeve t-shirt she wears underneath is untouched and unstained and Stiles can’t see any marks actually on her smooth skin.  Her face though is a testament to fear and stress, looking pinched and drawn.  Her beautiful doe-like eyes, so similar to Scott’s, are wide and the delicate skin around them is stretched taut.

 

“Where the hell have you been?  Get in here.”  Her voice is tight, but composed as she beckons them in and Stiles gapes as he peers around Derek’s shoulder to see the destruction in the living room.  The coffee table is smashed, a lamp and single soft chair knocked on their sides, the actual couch has long raking tears along it’s back and several pictures have come off their hooks on the wall.  It’s like a mini-tornado has whirled its path of destruction through the middle of the McCall’s home.  Maybe this is Oz and it’s all a dream. 

 

When he sees the two werewolves fighting in the middle of the floor for one brief moment Stiles considers clicking his heels.  As Dorothy said ‘There’s no place like home’ and leaving all this crazy behind sounds way too tempting and really it would be irresistible if not for the fact that wherever his family is, wolves and humans combined, that is where his home truly is.

 

On the floor, Laura is straddling Scott’s struggling body trying to get a grip on his wildly flailing forearms.  They’ve both shifted into their Beta phases.  The heavier more angular features, pointed ears and lips bulging at the protrusion of fangs from their gums is both fascinating and terrifying in the midst of the desperate fighting.    

 

“Get.  Off.  Me.”  Scott bites out and with supernatural strength he shifts his hips in a roll and punches out, both hands hitting Laura’s torso with a crack which sends her reeling.  She goes with the momentum, rolling and is quickly back up into a half-crouch, Derek cracks his neck from side to side as he morphs into his Beta shift and moves swiftly to stand at her side.  His fingers brush her shoulder letting her know where he’s positioned.   

 

Two beautiful and deadly warriors, their presence in the room is overwhelmingly dominant, awe and pride swells within Stiles that these are his pack mates.  The way they move together speaks of long familiarity, it’s faster than thought, knowing instinctively which direction the other will go and not having to rely on pack bonds to communicate.  Stiles knows this because he’s not hearing anything between Derek and Laura. 

 

There’s nothing at all and Stiles shivers.  He feels so alone inside his head and it scares him that he’s become so dependent on the link between them.  Dependent on the sense of security it gives him.

 

 _‘Don’t be afraid.’_   The brush of Derek through his mind and soul has him panting softly in relief and he's aware of his Dad focusing on him for a brief moment.  Can feel the weight of his gaze before it turns on the pack of wolves in front of them. 

 

Laura and Derek's rumbling growls rise to merge into a single roar of dominance and even as Stiles presses his hands to his ears to try and protect his hearing he can see Scott shudder where he’s crouching, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet.  He curls in on himself and cringes and Stiles’ feels pity well up in him.

 

The roar fades away and the silence that fills the room is heavy and charged.  Is it over?  Please let it be..

 

To his amazement Scott’s scrambling to his feet and he roars back at them in defiance.  His face, Dear God his face, Stiles groans aloud at the sight.  There’s a cunning, vicious pride in his expression that turns Stiles’ stomach.  His best friend warily backs up, the wall behind him caging him in as the Alpha’s close in.

 

 _‘Fuck.  He’s strong.’_   Laura sounds reluctantly impressed and if Stiles wasn’t so terrified for all of them at the moment he’d be puffing his chest out in pride in his brother.

 

 _‘Don’t hurt him.. please’_   He can’t help sending the thought through their bonds, he can’t even tell if they’ve heard him there’s not so much as a twitch from either of the Hales they’re so focused.

 

“Scott.”  There’s a pleading tone to his voice and Stiles doesn’t care who hears it.  Wolf gold eyes flash towards him and the way they watch him so assessingly, with such calculation, it sends shivers down his spine.  Scott’s looking at him as if he’s trying to decide whether he’s a threat or more ominously prey.

 

Derek growls long and loud in warning and Scott seems to recognise something primal in the Alpha’s tone as his eyes drop down to the floor and he watches them speculatively through the fringe of his long dark lashes.

 

“I need to get out of here.”  Scott’s voice is deep and grating, the rumbling growls vibrating from within him transforming it to something predatory and disturbing.  He’s twitching uncontrollably, his muscles spasming with the need to move.  Stiles almost recognises himself in Scott’s movements, it’s like when his medication’s worn off and his ADHD is starting to take over.

 

“You need to stay here bro.. we can help you.”  Instinctively, he holds his hands out, palms up in entreaty.  

 

“No you can’t.  You don’t know what it feels like.”  Scott lifts his hands and stares at the razor tipped ends that glint dangerously with a grim fascination.  “I don't need your help.  I feel good, better than good.. fantastic.  I don’t need my puffer.  I’m strong, stronger than I’ve ever been and all I want to do is to go outside and…”

 

Scott’s eyes flicker between wolf gold and his deep brown human ones as they look at his Mom. 

 

“And what Scott?  What do you want to do?”  Stiles asks almost dreading the answer.  Scott’s attention returns to him and the wolf is back, lips pulling back in a snarl revealing gleaming white teeth and he takes a step forward which is quickly blocked by Laura.

 

“I want to hunt.  I want to see where all these wonderful smells take me.”  Scott draws in a deep breath and his eyes flash wolf gold and practically roll back in his head, almost delirious with his suddenly expanded and enhanced wolf senses.  “I want to run something down until it’s heart's ready to explode in its chest, until its lungs are starved of every breath and Stiles.. I don’t care who or what it is.”

 

Stiles is frozen.  Chilled to the bone by the primal desires of his best friend.  No this isn't his best friend, not the sweet, lovable guy he knows.  He doesn't know who this is.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he can see his father moving around trying to find a better position, his gun so far pointed to the floor.  That is until Melissa moves up behind him with one of the two baseball bats Stiles knows that she keeps around the house.  They’re not just for when his Dad ropes her into playing for the PD against the Beacon Hills Fire Department as a ringer in the annual charity game, a single Mom on her own, one’s kept by her bed and the other by the hallway coat stand.  Before he can say a word of warning she whacks his Dad between the shoulder blades and he stumbles forwards, his breath coming out in a big “oof” of sound, luckily his Department Jacket is reasonably thick and takes the sting out of it.  Stiles still winces.

 

“Melissa.”  His Dad’s visibly shocked as he turns around to face his attacker.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?  You’re not going to shoot Scott.”  Melissa hisses at him fiercely.  His Dad looks at his gun almost guiltily.

 

“It wouldn’t hurt him.”  He defends.  There’s not many people that can make his Dad whine, his Mom was one and Melissa is definitely another.  She gives his Dad a pointed look and he huffs gruffly.  “Well it wouldn’t kill him.”

 

“I don’t care.  Nobody is hurting my son, otherwise I’m going to take my slugger here and shove it into places that’ll make your eyes water and I know them all damn it, I’m a nurse.  Comprende.”   Stiles believes every single word and very sensibly, Stiles thinks, his Dad does too as he holsters his gun and holds his empty hands up to show her.

 

“I’m not going to hurt Scott, I couldn’t.  He’s family, another son.  You know that.” 

 

“Nobody wants to hurt Scott.”  Laura growls, her gaze still focused on the Beta wolf in front of her.

 

“Uh-huh, tell that to the bastard that bit him.”  Snaps Melissa.

 

“Why don’t you do that yourself?”  The hair on the back of Stiles’ neck stands on end as he recognises that smooth, silky voice coming from behind him and he sees his Dad jerk in shock as it registers with him too.  Derek had told him that Peter had disappeared at the cemetery while everyone else had been pre-occupied in talking the Sheriff out of shooting any members of the Hale family, getting Stiles to hospital and waking up Scott from his forced slumber. 

 

Was it too much to hope that Uncle Creeper wouldn’t come back?

 

Looking over his shoulder he can see Peter standing by the open door, his hand resting on the knob where he’d obviously let himself in.  Even dressed casually in dark jeans and an olive coloured Henley there’s an elegance to the man that simply pisses him off. 

 

The first few buttons of Peter’s cotton shirt are undone and it naturally splays to form a v displaying his broad shoulders and strong neck to advantage, a fact that Stiles is pretty sure Peter’s very aware of.  Stiles can look at him with a clinical detachment and recognise that the older man is attractive, because in all honesty what Hale isn’t, and it does absolutely nothing for him.  Not compared to the way a certain sourwolf’s eyes and nose crinkle when he smiles in genuine amusement. 

 

Melissa moves quickly past him and starts to swing her bat at the werewolf like she’s in the World Series Playoffs and it’s all hinging on whether she can knock Peter Hale out of the ballpark.  He effortlessly grabs hold of the bat mid-swing and before either Stiles or Melissa can blink he’s disarmed her and with a gentle push for a werewolf sends her sprawling with a little squeak into the well-padded lounge chair behind her.

 

“That’s not playing very nice.”  Peter chides as he lets the bat slide through his hand until he’s holding the grip and lets it swing idly at his side.  “Although I am rather good at ball sports, I’m even better at contact ones and I always play to win.”

 

The look he sends his Dad then has Stiles gaping.  The little almost smug smile and the raised taunting eyebrow over twinkling blue eyes.  Is that.. is he.. God damn it.. he’s flirting with his Dad.  Ewww.  That twinkle is for his Dad.  His stomach pitches wildly and he thinks he throws up a little bit in his mouth and finds himself looking around for something to spit in.  

                                                                                                  

“Mom.”  Scott growls out and surges forward, dodging swiftly to one side trying to duck around Laura he ends up pushing into Stiles’ Dad, forcefully sending him sprawling against the wall then to the floor before he’s tackled by Derek and Laura who pin him to the ground, his body twisting and jerking beneath them.

 

“Dad.”  Stiles yells.

 

“John”  Stiles blinks startled.  It almost sounds like real concern in Peter’s voice. 

 

He rushes to his Dad’s side and helps him up.  Holding him with his arms wrapped around his Dad’s torso, the older man pats him on the arm, letting him know he’s okay.  He’s a little bit rumpled, shirt slightly askew and his jacket sleeves have pushed up slightly. Stiles frowns when he sees dark marks on his wrists.  He’s not sure what to make of them, but his Dad doesn’t seem to be aware of them as anything unusual. 

 

Stiles looks up and sees Peter’s been looking at the same bruises on his Dad’s wrists and an odd look crosses his face.  The closest that Stiles can come to in deciphering it, is that it’s a weird combination of regret and possessive pride.   His Dad lifts his hand to rub at the back of his head and Stiles gently turns his Dad so he can see.  There’s a small lump forming from where he must’ve struck the wall as he fell backwards.

 

“It’s okay Dad.”  Stiles murmurs softly.  Anger and guilt colliding violently in his gut.  As much as he’s angry at Scott for hurting his Dad, Stiles knows he’s ultimately responsible.  If he’d never dragged Scott out into the woods he wouldn’t be in this position now, losing control because of the full moon and hurting people, emotionally and physically because of the changes he was going through.

 

Peter’s eyes flicker from where they’ve been examining the red lump forming beneath his Dad’s soft, brown hair to meet his and the other man’s expression changes.  No longer cool and urbane sophisticate, this time the only word that can describe him is wrathful as crystal blue eyes bleed into red.

 

The older werewolf whips his head around to where Derek and Laura have Scott held down.  His best friend looks like he’s possessed, writhing and bucking wildly.

 

“SCOTT.”  Peter roars out his name as he stalks forward and the press of his Alpha power on his bitten Beta is tangible in the room.  His claws flex at his sides and his head rolls on his shoulders as he snarls and snaps at the very air around him.

 

“Peter.”  The wolf freezes almost mid-pounce as his Dad says his name urgently.  There’s a demand in that one spoken word, a note that for whatever reason it seems, Peter can’t ignore.  Peter doesn’t look back towards where Stiles and his Dad are standing, but Stiles can tell by the set of his shoulders that he’s very aware of them.  Relief pours through him when he sees Peter’s claws retract.

 

Scott is rigid and whimpers softly as he’s compelled to change from Beta to human by the will of his Alpha.  Laura and Derek still hold his arms, but they also let their forms phase back.  Silence reigns after the shockwave of Peter’s fury.  A werewolf defending his mate.  Stiles doesn’t know what to make of that in relation to his Dad and pushes it to the back of his mind to be examined later.. much, much later.

 

“Sheriff your cuffs please.”  Laura asks quietly, her tone soothing as though not to startle the wolfboy in front of her.  His Dad pulls off the silver cuffs from his belt and offers them to her.  With a click that sounds so very loud in the room she snaps one cuff on Scott’s wrist and he doesn’t resist, the other she clicks around the foot of the room’s old radiator which is anchored to the floor and wall.  Still, with the strength that Scott had been displaying Stiles kinda doubts that even that clunky, heavy thing would hold him for very long if he really wanted to get away.

 

“Scott’s not going anywhere, are you Scott?”  Laura says out loud and Stiles guesses he must’ve been broadcasting his doubt through their bonds.  Scott sits so forlornly his back to the wall and his knees drawn up, the look on his face is ghastly.  Pale and so stricken that it hurts to witness it.  Laura puts both of her hands on Scott’s shoulders and leans in and whispers in his ear.  Scott’s eyes glisten and he nods in understanding and Stiles’ curiosity gets the better of him and he asks through the bond.

 

_‘What did you say to him?’_

 

Laura runs her fingers through Scott’s hair and he leans into her touch.

 

_‘We won’t let you hurt anyone.’_

 

Stiles’ chest squeezes painfully.  Of course Scott’s first thoughts would be that he’s going to hurt someone.  From the way he refuses to look at his Mom she’s obviously his first concern, swiftly followed by the way he’s ignoring this part of the room where Stiles and his Dad stand.

 

“I’m sorry.”  Scott chokes out to the room in general.

 

“Laura I would speak to my Beta now.”  Peter’s voice is calm and almost too polite and Stiles wants to step between the Alpha and his Beta, even goes to take a step when he’s surprised that Laura gives her Uncle an almost pleading look before moving to one side.  Her face relaxes when he pulls something out of his pocket and shows her.

 

Crouching down next to Scott, Peter waits as the teenager’s eyes dart every which way trying to not make contact with the older wolf.  Eventually, as though he can’t help himself Scott looks into the face of the wolf that bit him.

 

“In our family, young wolves are given a special talisman to help them control their change.  Derek, Laura and myself have all used this until we’ve discovered our anchor.”  Peter holds up a metal disc.  Engraved into its surface is the triskelion design that Stiles has become so familiar with from the tattoo on Derek’s back.

 

“Anchor?”  Scott asks brokenly.

 

“Your anchor is your tie to humanity.  It can be anything or anyone and it’s different for each of us.  When the change feels like it’s going to overwhelm you, think of your anchor and it will help keep you grounded.  In the meantime, use the talisman, it has power, keep hold of it and believe.”  Peter holds out the disc to Scott.  With his uncuffed hand he reaches out for it and Peter surges forward features changing in an instant into his Beta phase, his fangs snap a whisker away from ripping out Scott’s throat.  It’s so quick that no one moves, shocked into place.

 

“And if you ever lay a hand on my mate again, it will be the last thing you do.”  Peter growls into Scott’s ear.  Scott’s pale and shaking, but lifts his head up and looks Peter dead on.

 

“And if you ever lay a hand on my Mom again, it will be the last thing **_you_** do.”  Scott growls out.  Peter’s eyes widen slightly even as his lips curve in almost approval.  His Beta face shifts to his human one and he laughs faintly in what seems to be genuine amusement.

 

“You almost make me want to reconsider what I’m about to do.” 

 

His Dad unholsters his gun, Laura and Derek tense, ready to spring and Stiles lets his power rise can feel the light pouring through him, so much power running through every muscle and tendon, through every nerve ending he feels almost drunk on it.  Just as he’s about to lift his hand and send it hurtling across the room into the wolf, Peter sits back on his heels and turns to the other two Hales.

 

 

“Lupus ad custodiam deditionem.”  Peter says clearly and Laura gasps and Derek shakes his head in what looks to Stiles very much like amazement.

 

“What?  What is it?  A disease?”  Stiles asks anxiously. 

 

“No, not a disease.  Most pack law is old, very old.  It’s latin, it means to surrender wolf guardianship.”  Derek says and seeing the look of bewilderment his mate is giving him he continues.  “In essence the relationship or bond between an Alpha and their Beta is a guardianship, almost parental, the Alpha’s bite is a promise of guidance and protection.  In return an Alpha can draw on their Beta’s strength in times of need, particularly if the pack is under attack.  To surrender or give up that bond is almost unheard of.” 

 

“Why are you doing this?”  Peter’s face gives nothing away as he considers his Dad’s question.  It’s so carefully blank that even in the handful of times he’s met the wolf Stiles recognises it’s not who he is.

 

“I have my reasons.”  He says eventually, his voice so smoothly neutral it sets Stiles’ teeth on edge.

 

“Scott, do you understand what Peter is doing?”  Laura brushes her slender fingers over the younger wolf’s thick dark hair.  He looks up at her and shakes his head.   “Peter won’t be your Alpha anymore, but you can’t be packless.. you can’t not have an Alpha, particularly when you’re learning control.”

 

“I don’t want an Alpha.  I don’t want someone else to be able to do to me what he can.”  Scott looks over at Peter and he screws up his face in fear and disgust.

 

“I wish it could be as easy as that for you Scott, I really do, but it’s too dangerous.  It would make you an Omega and paint a target on your back to hunters and other packs that may be out there.  How would you feel if you **_did_** hurt someone?  Someone you cared about.”  Derek looks across to where Stiles stands with his Dad and Melissa and Scott follows his gaze and his face blanches as he shakes his head furiously, his big brown eyes glistening and Stiles can feel his chest twinge as he feels the hot prickle of rising moisture at the back of his own eyes.

 

“Never.  I would never hurt them.”  Scott insists, shaking his head in denial.

 

Derek crouches down next to Laura, his shoulder brushing against hers as he places a comforting hand on Scott’s arm.  “You wouldn’t mean to.”

 

Scott makes a funny hiccupping noise under his breath.

 

“So what can he do?”  Melissa asks and Stiles has never seen her expression so bleak before.

 

“Scott, you can choose either Derek or myself to be your new Alpha.  Either of us would be glad to have you as our Beta and give you our guidance.”  Derek nods at his sister’s words.  Scott’s eyes flick back and forth between them.

 

“Laura.. please.”  Scott doesn’t need to say anything else.  Laura squats down beside him and grabs his free hand, his other clutching the talisman tightly.

 

“You honour me Scott.”  Laura bows her head before him.

 

“Lets get this show on the road then.”  Peter says impatiently.  Stretching his hand out to his Beta, Peter beckons with his fingers.  “Scott, hand please.  You will hear through our bond what you are required to do and say.  Just listen carefully.” 

 

Peter kneeling between the two wolves and extends his hands out towards them.  First, taking Scott’s hand in one and with his other grabs Laura’s and with a nod they begin.  Palm to palm Laura’s fingers curl around and she drives her claws deeply into Peter’s left wrist, blood welling up around each of the holes she’s gouged into his flesh.  Scott hesitates.

 

“If you want to be free of me you have to do this.”  Peter grinds out.

 

With a noticeable deep inhale of breath, Scott does the same to his right, piercing into his flesh with his claws and Peter is pulled taut between them, arms outstretched like a bizarre bloody crucifixion.  Stiles can feel the bile rise to his throat and even his Dad makes a small gasping noise as Peter lifts up onto his knees, every muscle straining.

 

 _'What's happening?'_ Stiles wonders, unconsciously sending it through the bond and feels his heart jump in his chest when Derek responds.  Their eyes meet and the tension he feels eases and he's not so afraid, not with his mate here.

 

_'Peter's acting as a conduit for Laura and Scott's bond to form.'_

  

“I break.” Says Peter fiercely as sweat beads on his brow and trickles down his temples.

 

“I build.”  Laura’s voice is a purr.  So sensual that Stiles feels the sting of rising heat rush over the thin skin of his cheekbones.

 

“I give.”  Peter’s back arches.

 

“I receive.”

 

“I surrender.”  Tension and pain lie thick in Peter’s voice, breaking these bonds obviously isn’t as easy as it sounds.  Peter draws Laura’s hand towards his other one that clasps Scott’s and they release their claws from his arms and Peter presses their hands together tight.

 

“I claim.”  Laura Beta phases, her eyes flare red and Scott’s flash gold in return. 

 

“I accept.”  Scott rasps out.

 

She lifts Scott’s shirt and before their eyes the bite mark that Peter had left on his side slowly fades away.  With a low growl she lunges forward and bites into his flesh and Scott moans, to Stiles ears it sounds like in pained pleasure.  Eventually, Laura pulls back and examines her handiwork, her eyes glowing red and her mouth curving in a little smile as her tongue flickers out to swipe up a stray drop of blood on her lips.  She looks pleased and almost sated.  Scott looks dazed, but more like the best friend he knows.

 

Peter falls back onto his haunches, head hanging low between his shoulders, chin almost touching his chest as he pants heavily.  The way he’s slumped over in exhaustion it looks like he’s run a couple of marathons back to back.  No wonder it’s not very common, because as far as Stiles could tell it was no holiday for the Alpha giving up his Beta to perform this little wolfy ritual, whereas Laura looks invigorated on her Alpha high having gained her very first Beta.

 

 _‘What now?’_   Stiles asks through the bond of his packmates.  Scott jolts like he’s been electrocuted.

 

 _‘Stiles?’_   He hears his name called tentatively through the pack bond and it’s not Derek or Laura communicating with him.  Scott’s eyes glow wolf gold and his lips slowly curl into a big smile and Stiles can’t stop the huge grin that stretches his mouth almost painfully.

 

“I can hear you.”  Says Scott aloud.  “Like in my head.”

 

“Yes.”  They say together.  Fist pumps may have been involved on Stiles’ part seeing as Scott was still chained.

 

“Great.”  Says his Dad and Melissa echoing their children's unison, but with a helluva a lot more sarcasm.  

 

Stiles decides to be the grown up in the room and ignore it, but not without getting the last word in.  

 

"'Aint it just."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation from the Latin:
> 
> Lupus ad custodiam deditionem = surrender wolf guardianship


End file.
